


In Screaming Color

by allantwitty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Anxiety, Aromantic Claire Novak, Asexual Castiel, Asexual Claire Novak, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Background Meg Masters/Claire Novak, Best Friends, Bisexual Dean, Castiel & Charlie Bradbury Friendship, Castiel Whump, Castiel-centric, Dean Loves Taylor Swift, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Castiel, Halloween, Homophobic John, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nerd Castiel, Nerd Dean, No Smut, POV Castiel, Past Cassie Robinson/Dean Winchester, Punk Castiel, Recovery, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Thanksgiving, Therapy, Valentine's Day, in that he wears eyeliner and has piercings, otherwise he's a nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 75,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9464480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allantwitty/pseuds/allantwitty
Summary: Castiel Novak is part of a peer mentor group at school, his therapist's solution to his isolation. This is how he meets Dean Winchester, a guy who's not exactly thrilled to be the new kid in school. They form a quick friendship based on mutual need for companionship, but will they be able to overcome their own problems and find what they're looking for in each other?





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel did not have a good night.

He was up until three in the morning “studying”, which, when loosely translated, meant “read for five minutes then take a two-hour break”.

When he finally stops himself from hitting snooze again, he looks at the clock and realizes that he has twenty-three minutes to get up, get ready, and run to school.

He jumps out of bed and puts the same clothes he wore yesterday on again, although technically they could be from any day. All he ever wears are black jeans and black long-sleeve shirts, and they’re all always on the floor.

He stops to take the time to put his eyeliner on, an act he will willingly be late for, but that means he can’t make a cup of coffee.

He grumbles in frustration as he walks past the coffee maker and stops to take his medication. While he's swallowing it, he remembers that he's also probably going to fail an exam today.

The last thing he wants is to have a shadow following him around all day.

“If you don’t want to be in the program, all you have to do is quit,” Uriel says, once Cas is in his office complaining.

“You know I can’t.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says, chuckling at his own joke. “And clean yourself up before you meet him, will you?”

“I am clean,” Cas says, not understanding what he’s trying to imply. “I took a shower last night.”

Uriel looks like he’s losing his patience. Although to be fair, he always looks like that. “Lose the makeup, Castiel,” he says.

“Why?” Cas asks, frowning.

Uriel rolls his eyes and waves his hand toward the door, and Cas assumes he’s being dismissed.

He sighs and looks at the name on his paper once more to make sure he’s got it right. Dean Winchester.

Cas leaves Uriel’s office and walks down the hallway, trying to find this Winchester person. He sees an unfamiliar boy kneeling down at a locker on the very last row, and he’s the only person around that Cas doesn’t recognize, so he assumes he’s found him.

Cas walks up to him and before he even gets a word in, the boy looks him up and down and smirks, saying, “Am I late for the Evanescence concert?”

Cas frowns and decides to ignore him. He’s used to jabs at how he chooses to present himself. “Um. Are you Dean Winchester?”

“Who wants to know?”

“Castiel.”

“Castiel? The hell kind of name is that?”

“It’s my name. And it’s Casti _el_ , not _Cas_ tiel.”

“Okay, Hermione.”

Cas squints at him in confusion. “I just told you, my name is -”

He rolls his eyes and cuts him off. “Nevermind. What do you want?”

“I’ll be your buddy today.”

Dean raises his eyebrows skeptically. “Come again?”

“My job is to show you around the school and help you find your classes.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“I don’t believe it’s voluntary. For either of us.”

Dean ignores him and continues trying to open the lock on his locker.

“Do you need some help with that?” Cas asks.

“Look, _buddy_ , no offense, but fuck off.”

“I’m only trying to help.”

Dean sighs in exasperation, whether at the lock or at Castiel he doesn’t know, and drops his hands. “Whatever.”

Cas takes that as an acquiescence. He kneels down next to him and opens the lock on his first try. Cas sees him roll his eyes in his peripheral vision.

“Thanks,” he mutters.

“So you _are_ Dean, correct?” Cas asks, still squatting next to him.

“Yep,” he grunts. “And you’re Castiel?”

He emphasized the first syllable instead of the third again and Cas squints at him. “You did that on purpose.”

“Did what?”

Cas stands up. “Hurry up, Dean. We’re gonna be late.”

Dean rolls his eyes and starts putting his things away. Cas absentmindedly plays with his lip ring with his tongue while he waits. He doesn’t mean to, but he ends up staring at Dean the whole time. He’s…actually sort of beautiful.

He’s kind of an asshole though.

“Can I see your schedule?” Cas asks, for a distraction.

“Dude, I don’t need a buddy, okay?”

“Dean, this will be much easier if we don’t argue about it. You can forget all about me tomorrow.”

Dean sighs, a long suffering thing. “Here,” he says, after fishing through his pocket and pulling out a crumpled up paper.

Cas smooths it out in his hands and looks over Dean’s classes. He notices that they have four out of seven classes together. He can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.

“We have Physics first,” Cas says.

“We?”

“We share the class, as well as three others. My apologies.”

Dean rolls his eyes and slams his locker shut, though it has less of a dramatic effect given that it’s on the very last row. Cas assumes there weren’t any higher ones left. “Let’s just go.”

***

“I don’t believe you’re doing that correctly.”

Dean looks up and then immediately rolls his eyes. “Oh, here we go,” he mutters.

Cas frowns. “Dean, I told you I’m only trying to help.” To prove it, he kneels down next to Dean and pushes his hand out of the way, opening the locker himself. He decides to ignore the shock and heat of Dean’s hand when he touches him. “There.”

“Thanks. You can go now.”

“What’s your next class? I can’t remember your schedule.”

“ _Cas_.”

“It’s Casti - never mind.”

Dean throws a book into his locker and slams it shut. He moves to stand up and Cas has the strange urge to put his hand out to help him. He doesn’t.

“I’m not gonna win here, am I?”

“Dean, I would bet that this is probably more trying for me than it is for you. If you have a problem with the program, you can take it up with Uriel. I have no say in this.”

“Why are you even doing this thing then?”

“Can we just go?” Cas says.

“Fine.”

***

Later, when it’s time for lunch, Cas considers looking for Dean. He’s pretty sure Dean wouldn’t want to sit with him, but he doubts he’s already made other friends. Cas would bet Dean has a hard time making friends, and he’s not even saying that to be mean. He’s just noticed that Dean is, to put it as delicately as possible…kind of a dick.

Cas looks around for a minute and finally sees Dean near the back of the cafeteria, and is kind of pleased to notice he’s not by himself. He’s with a smaller boy with long, floppy hair, who Cas assumes is his little brother. Cas can relate - his sibling is his only friend, too.

Cas walks up to them and Dean rolls his eyes when he sees him.

“Sammy, this is him,” Dean says, gesturing at him with his thumb.

“Hello, Sammy. I’m Castiel. I’m sure your brother has said nothing but good things about me.”

“ _You’re_ Castiel? Dean, what the hell? You made him sound like Marilyn Manson or something,” Sammy says. Cas snorts. It’s kind of a funny feeling, knowing Dean was talking about him. “Also, hi. It’s Sam to everyone but him.” Sam sticks his hand out and it takes Cas a minute to realize he’s supposed to shake it. “Castiel, huh? That’s an angel name, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Cas says, surprised. “I’ve never met anyone who knew that.”

“Our mom used to -”

“Sam,” Dean says, his voice hard and unflinching. “Cas doesn’t want to hear about that.”

Cas looks at Dean, confused with his sudden change in mood.

“Sorry,” Sam says in a small voice.

“Is everything okay?” Cas asks, addressing Dean.

He takes a big bite of his sandwich and says, “Fine.”

“Dude, close your mouth when you’re eating. I don’t like seafood,” Sam says.

Cas chuckles. He already likes Sam. He considers leaving them alone, but for some reason, he ends up saying, “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“No,” Dean says.

“No you don’t mind, or no?”

“No,” he repeats.

“Dean! Don’t be such a jerk,” Sam says.

“No, it’s okay, Sam. I have some…studying to do. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Sorry about my brother.”

Cas tries to hide his disappointment. “Don’t worry about it. Bye, Sam. Let me know if you need anything, Dean.”

Dean looks at him and for a moment Cas thinks he looks slightly remorseful, but in the end he just gives him a fake smile and a salute goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey.”

Cas looks up from his textbook and is surprised at who he sees in front of him. “Oh. Hello, Dean.”

“Can I sit here?” he asks, his voice gruff and low.

“Of course.” Cas moves his papers out of the way for Dean to sit. Studying can wait, right? It’s not like he went to bed last night at nine o’clock without even glancing at his notes. Of course not.

Dean sits down and they sit in silence for a few moments while he puts his bag down and gets his lunch out. Cas accidentally stares at him the whole time, like he did yesterday. He has an interesting face, Cas notices. Looking at it this close, he can see that it’s soft and pretty, but hard and tough at the same time. It’s confusing to look at him for too long.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Cas says, snapping himself out of it.

“Yeah, well. Here I am,” he mutters.

“It’s nice to see you. Are you settling in okay?”

“Yeah.” He takes a big bite out of his sandwich and says, mouth full, “I gotta say, Cas, I knew you were a nerd, but sitting by yourself in an empty library during lunch is a whole new level.”

“And yet you’re the one who sat with me.”

Dean snorts and ignores him. “Big surprise, the kid who wears makeup doesn’t have any friends.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “What year are you living in, Dean? Many men wear makeup. That’s certainly not the reason I’m sitting alone.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Cas, I don’t have any friends either,” Dean says, patronizing him.

Cas is still frowning. “I feel much better.”

“Good.”

“I’ll have you know I have plenty of friends, Dean Winchester,” he says. He’s lying. But Dean doesn’t need to know that.

“So where are they?”

“I was trying to study. That’s typically what students do alone in a library.”

“Who studies during lunch?”

“People who aren’t hungry and didn’t study the night before a test.”

“Really? But I thought you were a nerd?”

“You have terrible people skills, Dean.”

“You have…terrible people skills,” Dean mutters, his mouth full of food.

“And no table manners. You’re just an all-around catch, aren’t you?”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“Why did you even come into the library?” Cas asks.

Dean looks away and he looks uncharacteristically shy. He even looks like he's blushing. Cas can’t see why, unless…

“Oh,” Cas says, a smile slowly spreading on his face. “Were you looking for me, Dean?”

“No! I was just…looking for a book. And I saw you in here, so.”

“You were looking for me,” Cas repeats smugly.

“Shut up,” Dean mutters. “I don’t know anyone else. You would’ve done the same thing.”

“I’m sure I would have.” Dean looks uncomfortable, so Cas decides to lay off. “Why didn’t you sit with your brother?”

Dean sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Kid’s too cool for me, apparently.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s already made, like, ten friends,” Dean says, a little too loudly. He gets a prompt ‘shh!’ from the librarian. He rolls his eyes and continues, softer. “I felt weird being the only senior in this big group of freshman.”

Cas laughs, but not at him, just at the fact that he can relate. “That’s exactly why I don’t sit with my sister.”

“You have a sister?”

“Yeah. Claire Novak.”

“ _That’s_ your sister?”

“You know her?”

“Yeah, she’s in my math class. My _calculus_ class. And she’s a freshman.”

Cas smiles fondly. “That’s her.”

“Huh,” Dean says. He looks at him and says, “She’s cooler than you.”

“I know.”

They sit in silence for a moment, Dean focusing on his sandwich and Cas focusing on Dean.

“How has your move been, Dean?”

Dean’s face changes at that, his expression becoming guarded and closed off. He has food in his mouth, but he swallows it down before answering. When he finally does, he just says a simple “fine.” Cas doesn’t need to be an expert at reading people to see how uncomfortable Dean has gotten. There’s obviously a story there that he’s not ready to tell.

“What about your classes?” he tries. “Have you gotten caught up yet?”

Dean looks at him, looking reluctantly grateful for a moment before he drops his gaze. “No, I’m still working on it,” he says softly.

“Me too,” Cas says. Dean gives him a confused look. “I never seem to be caught up with my work.”

“Oh. So I guess that means you won’t help me with my homework. I was counting on that, given how you’re a nerd and everything.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Where have you gotten this idea of me, Dean?”

“Who’s in a _buddy program_?”

“I have my reasons,” Cas says.

“Alright then, weird little goth boy.”

“I think you’re secretly a nerd, and you’re just projecting onto me,” Cas says. “Yeah, the whole ‘leather jacket and bad attitude’ thing is just an act.”

Dean dramatically places his hand on his heart. “You caught me, Cas. What ever will I do now?”

Cas laughs and when he looks down, he sees his notes, and his good mood is interrupted. “Dean,” he says. “At the risk of being made fun of, you did interrupt my studying. I’d kind of like to not fail this test.”

“You’re gonna kick me out? After we’ve already established I have no friends?”

“You can stay but you can’t talk. I imagine that’s a difficult task for you.”

“You’re just a laugh a minute, aren’t you?”

“I’m trying to study here, Dean.”

***

“Hey!” Dean calls over the crowd all trying to leave. “Cas!”

Cas looks up and sees Dean leaning up against this huge boat of a car. Cas turns around and then looks back at Dean, saying ‘me?’.

He can see Dean roll his eyes all the way across the parking lot. “Yes, you!” he shouts.

Cas looks both ways before he starts to awkwardly half-run to Dean’s car.

“You run funny,” is the first thing Dean says when he approaches him.

“What do you want, Dean?”

“Hey, I was gonna offer you a ride home, but with that attitude I might change my mind.”

“You were?” Cas says, a smile slowly forming on his face.

“Don’t make it weird. Sammy’s staying after school to meet with the…I don’t know, some dorky club. And I gotta pick him up later and I don’t want to be home alone so I have some free time. So you want a ride or what?”

“Yes, that would be nice,” Cas says.

“Awesome.”

They get in the car and Cas can immediately tell that the car is special to Dean. It looked immaculate from the outside, but the inside is just as pristine. In Cas’s mom’s car, there’s probably a layer of dust on the dashboard that’s going on ten years old, but not in Dean’s car. Everything looks shiny and new, nothing giving away how old the car is.

“You like this car,” Cas says.

“No, I like my brother. I love this car.”

“Alright then.”

“That was a joke. Kinda. Only on the days when he’s a little brat.”

Cas snorts and, after telling him how to get to his house, they fall into a companionable silence. Cas decides to break it first.

“I failed the exam I was studying for.”

Dean looks over at him and has an unreadable expression on his face.

“Please don’t laugh,” Cas says.

Dean’s eyebrows scrunch together at that. “I’m not gonna laugh. Geez, how big of an asshole do you think I am?”

“Sorry,” Cas says. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

“Guess it’s kinda my fault, huh?”

“What?” he asks, turning his head to look at him. “No, Dean, it’s my fault. I would’ve failed even if you weren’t there. This is my problem.”

“Still, man. Sucks.”

“Yeah.”

They pull up to Cas’s house a minute later.

“Thank you for the ride, Dean,” Cas says. Cas gets out and is walking up to his driveway when he hears Dean speak.

“Hey, buddy, this was a one-time thing, okay?” Dean says from his open window. “Don’t go showing up at my door expectin’ free rides or something.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, Dean.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for brief mention of self harm

Cas doesn’t know why he always shows up to his therapy appointments so early. Dr. Milton never calls him in until at least ten minutes after his appointment is supposed to start. He usually doesn’t mind waiting, but today he’s feeling a little bit more impatient. He knows he has to spend the evening studying if he doesn’t want to fail another test and he can’t decide if he’s eager to just get it over with or if he just wants to stay in her office for as long as he can and avoid it.

The friendly but slightly rabid receptionist, Becky, has offered him water three times while he’s been waiting. He declines every time she asks but she still keeps asking.

He hears the click of high heels a minute later after her fourth attempt and sees Dr. Milton’s silhouette appear through the frosted glass door.

“Castiel?” she says, popping her head out. “Come on back.”

He gets up and Becky says “good luck!” and flashes him a thumbs up as he walks by her.

When Cas walks into Dr. Milton’s office, he’s immediately met with the sight of a new painting on the wall behind her desk. It’s a picture of the beach at night, the sun setting over the wide ocean. He stares at it while he sits down and he keeps staring at it until his vision goes blurry and all he sees are giant blobs of red and orange. He eventually realizes he’s being spoken to.

He blinks back into himself. “What?”

“I asked if you like the painting.”

He drops his gaze and looks down. He picks at a loose thread on the sleeve of his hoodie and notices his hands are shaking slightly. “It’s very nice.”

“Thank you. My daughter painted it for me.”

He gives a polite “hm” and a nod in response.

“You look a little down, Castiel. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he lies.

She doesn’t say anything else, and it’s quiet for so long that he eventually looks up. She just smiles at him encouragingly, silently asking him to speak.

He sighs. “I hate that painting.”

She frowns, looking almost offended. “What do you mean?”

“I - it - I don’t know. It’s making me feel weird.”

“Is it the fact that it’s new? You’re not used to it being there?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“I understand. It’s perfectly acceptable to feel that way. Do you remember what we’ve talked about before, though? What to do when we’re faced with change?”

He shakes his head. He actually doesn’t remember. He thinks that he really should start taking notes in these sessions like she always does.

“Remember what I always tell you? ‘Discomfort is a catalyst for change’.”

“Yeah.”

“And what does it mean to you?”

“Um, it means that change will make me uncomfortable?”

“Okay. What else?”

He shrugs and looks back down. He keeps tugging on the loose string on his sleeve. “I don’t know,” he says, feeling like such a failure. Can’t get school right, can’t even get therapy right.

“To me, it says that when you’re feeling this discomfort, like with the painting, or _anything_ , you’re paving the way for new possibilities and new doors for you to open. Do you expect to make any progress with your depression if you never leave your comfort zone? If you continue to do the same things every day and never make any variations in your routines?”

“No. But what does that have to do with the painting?”

She laughs softly. “I’m getting to that. Think of the painting as a metaphor for your illness. It’s a big, bright challenge that you’ve never had to face before. And how you deal with it is up to you.”

“So how do I deal with it?”

“Like I said, it’s up to you. I’m not going to take it down, so you have no choice but to get used to it. The same can be said for your illness. It’s never going to go away, so you have to adapt your life and make some changes to figure out how to live with it.”

“Oh.” He sits for a moment to digest what she said while she writes something down.

“Anyway,” she says, sighing and clapping her hands against her thighs. “How are you, Castiel?”

“I’m fine.”

“I know it’s been a while since you have, but I still have to ask. Have you self-harmed since we last spoke?”

“No.”

“That’s fantastic. So what have you been up to?”

He never knows what to say when she asks that, because he doesn’t _do_ enough to give her an answer. He doubts she wants to hear his opinion on the latest show he binge-watched. (It was Parks and Recreation, and he loved it. He wishes Chris Traeger was his therapist.)

“Um, mostly just school.”

“And how are you doing there?”

“I’m still having a hard time doing my homework. I always do it at school, like during lunch or other classes, because I can’t make myself do it when I’m home.”

“And what do you do when you’re home?”

“Um, lay in bed. Watch TV.”

“So you’ve seen no improvement in your motivation?”

“No. And I…I failed another test.”

“Oh. What happened?”

“I didn’t study. I tried studying at school before class started, but then…” Then Dean happened. “I got distracted.”

“By anything in particular?”

“Um. I met someone.”

Her eyes twinkle in interest, and he says, “No, not like that.”

“I didn’t say anything,” she says with a laugh.

“His name is Dean. He was new and I was assigned to be his buddy from the peer mentor group.”

“Have you two become friends?”

Cas snorts. “Not exactly. I mean, I don’t know. We mostly just bicker. I like him, though.”

“What do you mean?” she says, smiling widely. It makes him feel a little pathetic, that the possibility of him maybe making a friend could make her so happy.

“We just, like, make fun of each other and stuff. It’s…entertaining.” He laughs fondly thinking of him, then stops when he realizes what his face must look like. He doesn’t know why he’s telling his doctor about Dean.

“That does sound fun. It’s nice to be around people you can be yourself with.”

“Yeah. He’s probably the closest thing I have to a friend. I don’t know if he’d say the same for me, but. Yeah.”

“I’m very happy to see you socializing, Castiel. Does Dean make you want to come out of your isolation?”

“We’re not that close.”

“Well I hope to see you become closer. I think having someone you can talk to would do wonders for you.”

“Maybe.”

“So tell me a little bit more about this test.”

Cas sighs and says, “Do I have to?”

She smiles. “No, I guess not. But I’d like you to. I just want to know what happened.”

“Like I said, I didn’t study.”

“Why didn’t you study?”

“I couldn’t make myself get out of bed and do it. I just wanted to watch Netflix. And then when I tried to study at school, I just wanted to talk to Dean.” He stops when he hears what the words coming out of his mouth sound like. “I sound like I’m just lazy,” he says. “Maybe I am.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it, Castiel. We know you suffer from depression. I wouldn’t underestimate what it’s capable of making you do. Or in this case, not do.”

“How do I - how do I stop this? I can’t keep doing this. I’m not going to graduate at this rate.”

She looks down at her notes for a minute, clearly thinking. “Hm,” she says. “I can try writing a doctor’s note for you. Maybe your teacher will let you make up the test. Or if not, maybe it’ll change the way you’re given tests in the future. You can take them by yourself or on a different time plan or something.”

“I doubt they’d care.”

“Of course they care, Castiel. You have a medical condition. Schools _do_ make accommodations for that.”

He shrugs and picks at the thread hanging off of his sleeve. “Maybe.”

She smiles at him and says, “So. What else has been going on?”

“Nothing.”

“How are you doing on your meds? You’re on…” she says, trailing off as she flips through her notes. “Prozac?”

“Yeah.”

“So how has that been working out?” she asks.

“Fine.”

She smiles again, placating him. He always does this, this one-word answer thing, so she’s used to it by now. “How have you been feeling on them? Any side effects?”

“Yeah, my hands have been shaking.” He holds them up to prove it and they tremble in the air. “I don’t sleep very well, like I wake up a lot.”

“What about your appetite?”

“Um, it’s a little better, I guess.”

“Good, good,” she says, writing something down. “When do you see Dr. Moseley next?”

“In a couple weeks,” he says.

“Great. So. Did you have anything else you wanted to discuss?”

“Not really.”

“Okay then, I guess that’s it for today. Feel free to call me anytime if you need something, okay?”

He stands up and rubs his sweaty palms down his thighs. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Be well, Castiel.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says as he sits down, already having his mouth full.

“Are you such an animal that you can’t even wait to _sit down_ before you start eating?”

“Don’t judge me, Cas, I’m starving. Didn’t eat breakfast. So,” he says, clapping his hand on the table. “What do we got today? Chemistry? History?”

Cas smiles and reaches into his backpack, pulling out a brown bag.

“Is that…no, it can’t be…is that _lunch_?”

“Yep,” Cas says, still smiling. “Homemade, too. Well, mommade.”

“So no homework or cramming for some test that you were probably already doomed to fail?”

“I take offense to that, Dean.”

“You know, normal people do their studying at home.”

“Who said I was normal?” Cas retorts back.

Dean lifts his eyebrows and purses his lips. “Touché.”

“So. Dean. Am I still your only friend?”

“You know what, I met kind of a cool girl. Could be something there.”

Cas's eyebrow goes up and he feels something twist in the pit of his stomach, but he doesn’t know what it is. “Oh yeah?” he says casually.

“Yeah, she’s a little young for me, but I think we can make it work. She’s got long blonde hair, too much eyeliner, an attitude that could put Lucifer to shame…oh, what was her name again…”

“I hope for your sake you’re joking.”

Dean guffaws, with a mouth full of food, mind you, and says, “Of course I’m joking. And yes, Castiel, you’re still my only friend. And I’m still yours?”

Cas smiles and says, "Yep."

“Good, we’re both just as pathetic as we were yesterday,” Dean says.

Cas laughs and continues to eat his lunch. He likes this – they have their own little spot in the library where they can eat in private and have secret conversations.

“So what about you, Casanova?”

“What about me?”

“You got your eye on any lady? Or fella. I don’t judge.”

“No, Dean.”

“Come on. It’ll be our little secret,” he says, nudging his shoulder with the hand not holding his bag of potato chips.

“I’m asexual, Dean.”

“Bless you?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Asexual. It means I don’t experience sexual attraction to people.”

Dean pauses for a long moment, seemingly deep in thought. “What do you mean?”

"What does it sound like?"

"I don't know, I've never heard of that before. That's a thing?"

"Yes. It's called asexuality," he repeats.

"So you don't want to have sex, ever?"

"Well," he says, sighing at having to explain this in depth. "There's sex-repulsed asexuals, sex-indifferent asexuals, and there's even asexuals who still have sex. I'm not exactly sure which one I am."

“Uh,” he says, running a hand over his beard. “That’s…huh. I’ve never heard of that.”

“Not many people have. But it’s just as valid as being heterosexual, bisexual…et cetera.”

“So like, you’re not into having a relationship with someone…ever?”

“I didn’t say that,” Cas says, ducking his head. “I can still feel romantic attraction. That's different than sexual attraction.”

“Well. I guess you really do learn something new every day. Thanks, Cas.”

“You’re the only person I’ve ever told that to, you know. That I’m ace.”

Dean looks at him, doing a double take. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know, I feel like I can…” he trails off. “It’s not a big deal,” he ends up saying.

“Aw, you trust me. How cute.”

Cas rolls his eyes and Dean smiles, and his face lights up, and the crinkles by his eyes are really cute and…oh shit.

Cas has a crush on Dean.

***

Cas always known that Dean is attractive, anyone can see that. He's known that from the minute he laid eyes on him. But he’s more than that. He's not just a pretty face. He’s something…else. Something special. That's not to say Dean isn't beautiful, because my _God_ , is he beautiful. He has beautiful eyes that shine green, like the way the ocean sometimes looks on a sunny day. He has a beautiful smile, the kind that lights up his entire face. He has beautiful lines by his eyes that grow more pronounced when he’s laughing. He has beautiful freckles that look like constellations on his cheeks. He has beautiful shoulders that he hides under a too-large leather jacket. He has beautiful hands, the kind that look rough but handle everything with a delicate touch.

But Dean is more than his beauty. He has a sense of humor that meshes with Cas's so perfectly, making them able to just bounce off each other effortlessly. He's smart and quick as a whip, always in the know of what Cas is trying to study. He watches out for his little brother with an endearing sort of fierceness. He even sticks up for Cas - one day, a couple of girls were sitting by them in the library and there was a distinct mention of "eyeliner" and a lot of giggling, and Dean glared at them for the rest of lunch. That still makes Cas tingly when he thinks about it.

He doesn’t know when he became the protagonist of a romance novel, but here he is, waxing poetic about Dean and his beauty and his many endearing traits. Dean, who probably only talks to him because he hasn’t met anyone else yet. Dean, who is a walking daydream, who would never go for a nightmare like Cas. Dean, who will probably be with someone like Lisa Braeden by the end of the month.

Dean, who still hasn’t shown up to their spot in the library when there’s only five minutes left of lunch.

Cas knew this would happen.

***

“Hey, Cas.”

“Hi," Cas says, ignoring the flutter in his chest. So he has a crush on Dean, so what. He can act normal around him.

Dean lifts his arm and scratches the back of his head, like he always does when he’s uncomfortable. “Listen, you probably weren’t, but in case you were wondering where I was at lunch, I, uh, met some people. And they asked me to sit with them, so. I did. Sorry. I would’ve texted you or something, but I don’t have your number, so…”

“If you want my number, Dean, all you have to do is ask. You don’t have to make up imaginary friends to do so.”

“Shut up,” he says, sitting down in his seat, the one next to Cas. “Don’t know why I bothered explaining myself to you.”

“Who did you sit with?” Cas asks casually.

“Uh, I met a girl named Lisa and she introduced me to her friends. I don’t remember all of their names, though.”

Lisa. Cas will have to tell someone about his newfound psychic abilities because he already predicted this would happen. Of _course_ Dean’s new friend is Lisa Braeden.

“I’m glad you made some friends,” Cas says, trying not to let the bitter disappointment boiling inside him show. “I imagine that was difficult for you to do.” Maybe if he resorts to their usual bickering, it won’t hurt as much. At least that’s what he tries to tell himself.

“You can sit with us if you want,” Dean says, ignoring him. “Unless you want to keep on eating by yourself. They seem like cool people.”

“Thanks but no thanks,” Cas says, despite how much he wants to.

“Why not?”

“I’d rather eat in the bathroom than third wheel with you and Lisa.”

Dean snorts and purses his lips, and if Cas didn’t know any better he’d say he looks a little offended. “You wouldn’t be third wheeling in a group of like six people but…suit yourself, man.”

“Okay, everyone, listen up!” Mrs. Mills shouts over the noise of the class. She waits for it to die down before she says, “Partner up! We’re doing a group assignment today.”

Cas’s chest flutters of its own volition. He automatically looks at Dean in question and Dean nods.

Mrs. Mills hands out the instruction packet for the assignment and Cas looks it over. It’s all about the five senses, the topic they’re currently studying. “Okay, so. I’m going to assign a different sense to each pair and that, obviously, will be the topic of your project.” She calls out one of the five senses to each pair and when she finally gets to Cas and Dean, she gives them "touch".

“You ready to touch each other?” Dean asks.

Cas’s stomach drops to his feet. “What?” he says, too quickly. Dean winks at him and he tries to roll his eyes. He manages to get out a quiet “shut up, Dean.”

They get their aprons from the stand and walk to the side of the classroom with the lab tables. They walk around, looking for a table set up for the touch experiment, and find one near the back of the room.

“Okay,” Dean says. He picks up the paper with the directions on it and reads. “We have to draw a square on the back of our hands and poke it with this probe thing,” he says, picking up a thin probe that’s about six inches long. “Once after it’s dipped in ice water, then once when it’s dipped in hot water. We have to mark the spots we feel hot and cold sensations.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Cas says. He’s about to pick up the probe when Dean scoops Cas’s hand up in his and lays it down flat on the table. He presses his fingers down across the top of Cas’s hand to keep it still.

Cas heart nearly falls out of his ass. “What are you –“

“Just trying to do the assignment, Casanova, keep your pants on.”

Dean picks up his pen and starts drawing a box on the top of Cas’s already-sweating hand. Once he’s done, he picks up the probe and dips it in the cup of ice water, leaving it to sit for a minute. Once he deems it ready, he picks it up and dries it with a paper towel, then starts poking inside the drawn-on box.

“Okay, close your eyes and tell me when you feel the cold,” Dean says.

Cas can’t imagine he could possibly feel cold, not when Dean is this close and is _touching_ him. But he does eventually feel a cold pinprick and tells Dean where, and he draws a dot.

They repeat the exercise again with a cup of hot water, as well as with a paintbrush bristle instead of a probe, and then they switch to Dean’s hand. Cas lifts the pen up to draw the box, and he notices that his hands are shaking. Shit.

“You okay, Cas?” Dean asks. His voice is soft and soothing, not teasing like Cas would expect.

“Um,” he says. "Fine." He hopes his voice sounds believable enough.

“You’re really excited to hold my hand, aren't you?” Dean says.

Cas looks up at him with wide eyes and Dean smirks. Cas rolls his eyes. “Yes, that’s exactly it,” he says sarcastically, even though it kind of is. “Now hold still.”

They repeat the experiment again with Dean’s hand and once they’re done, they start writing up the report in silence. Cas’s hands really are shaking, but he’s trying to hide it. He’s pretty sure they’re only shaking because of his medication, but his face is also about a foot away from Dean’s face, so that might have something to do with it as well.

As they’re walking out of class, Dean’s arm brushing against his, Cas is sweating and still inexplicably nervous and he’s ready for a Dean-free lunch hour.

“Cas, uh, you sure you don’t want to sit with us? Offer’s still on the table.”

“I have homework,” he lies.

“Fine,” Dean says. “Have fun eating in the bathroom.”

“I will, thanks.”


	5. Chapter 5

When Cas gets up, he walks over to the window and opens the curtains slightly, looking outside to check the weather. It isn’t raining but it’s grey and foggy, just like he likes it. He places his hand against the window and, like he suspected, it’s nice and cold. Cas smiles to himself and starts to get ready, already in a better mood despite being out of bed.

Cas loves autumn. He loves the cool air that whips around him and slaps against his skin in the mornings as he walks to school. He loves how everything seems to be orange – the leaves, the pumpkins, the sky at night. He loves the scent of gingerbread that fills his room when he burns the candles he begs his mom to buy him. He loves how every night feels like the right night to binge on scary movies. He just loves the special feeling he gets during autumn.

Cas’s good mood carries, still going strong even after arriving at school. He gives Claire a hug as they separate – Cas is still laughing at the look of confusion on her face – and when he walks into class and sees Lisa and Dean sitting together, he doesn’t even flinch.

“Hello, Dean. Lisa,” he says, nodding at them both.

Dean looks up at Cas and smiles, the crinkles by his eyes becoming more pronounced as he does. “Hey, Cas.”

Cas smiles back at him and they look at each other for several moments. This is where Claire would tell Cas to stop staring, but he doesn’t see the problem. Especially if the other person is staring back.

“Hi, Castiel,” Lisa says, making him finally look away. “How are you?”

“I’m doing very well,” he replies, sitting down and setting his textbook down on his desk.

“Yeah, I can tell,” she says. “You seem downright cheerful today.”

“I think it’s the weather,” he says. “Isn’t autumn amazing?”

“I know! Dean was just complaining about how cold it is, can you believe it? How can you _not_ love this weather?”

Cas looks over at Dean, frowning. “You don’t like the cold, Dean?”

“When I’m inside with the heat on, I like it just fine.”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “No appreciation for the finer things. Oh, and get this – Dean doesn’t want to go to Homecoming,” she says, apparently thinking that Cas should be as put out as her. As if Cas should be upset that Dean doesn’t want to go to a dance with her.

“That’s too bad. It sounds like fun,” he says. The words sound foreign coming out of his mouth and the smile on his face couldn’t feel more forced. He’s sure she can tell by the way her own smile falls a little.

“What about you, Cas?” she says, seemingly shaking it off. “You gonna go?”

“Um, I didn’t plan on it.” He can think of few things he’d want to do less, actually. But he doesn’t say that, because Lisa’s being nice to him and he can already tell she doesn’t deserve any of the negative thoughts that have been slipping into Cas’s mind ever since Dean met her.

“You should!” she says excitedly. “I bet if you asked Meg Masters she’d say yes.”

Dean, who had been silent during their exchange, whips his head toward Lisa at that. “Meg Masters? And _Cas_? Where – why would you even – what –“

“Aw, is someone jealous?” Cas teases, just to be annoying. “Do you like Meg, Dean? I can talk to her for you if you want.” Dean glares at him and Cas smiles. They’re staring at each other again.

Lisa looks between them and says, “Huh? You like Meg, Dean?”

“No! Cas just thinks he’s funny. But he’s not.”

Lisa has a funny expression on her face, but it shifts before Cas can analyze it. “Whatever, I think Meg likes Cas,” she says, ignoring Cas’s deflection. “Haven’t you seen them hanging out? I think they’d be cute together!”

“Lisa, Meg is just a friend,” he says. He doesn’t mention the fact that he’s not attracted to girls, and that the only person he is attracted to is sitting right next to her. “And she’s more my sister’s friend than anything else,” he adds. He also doesn’t mention the fact that he’s pretty sure Meg likes Claire, not him.

“Well there has to be someone you’d want to go with,” she tries.

“There isn’t.” Cas doesn’t look at Dean as he says this and he’s proud of himself for that. “I’d rather stay home and watch TV.”

“You’re no fun,” she says teasingly.

The bell rings and Mrs. Mills starts class then, ending their conversation, not that Cas is complaining.

Once class is over, Cas thinks he’s free of Lisa and Dean, but Lisa apparently has other ideas.

“Cas,” she says as he’s about to leave. “Wait up.”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you sit with us at lunch today? I always feel bad when I see you sitting by yourself.” Of _course_ Lisa’s nice. Because life would be too simple if he could just hate her.

"Uh, you don’t have to feel bad. I prefer to be alone, actually.” Lisa’s face falls a little and Cas worries he’s offended her. “I meant – I’m just used to it. I’d love to join you.” Cas inwardly groans. He doesn’t _want_ to sit with Dean and his new girlfriend; he’d already been through this when Dean extended the offer. Why couldn’t he just say no?

“Great!” she says, beaming.

Cas looks over at Dean and Dean looks petulant.

“What?” Cas says.

“So you’ll say yes to her, but when _I_ offer you tell me you’d rather eat in the bathroom.”

“She’s prettier than you,” he deadpans.

“Aw, that’s just low.”

Lisa turns around from her place right in front of them and looks between them, squinting. Cas quickly looks away to avoid her gaze.

Cas forgot that when he agreed to sit with Lisa and Dean, he was also agreeing to sit with all of their friends. And Lisa, being Lisa, felt it necessary to introduce Cas and make him feel _welcome_. The nerve.

“Everyone, this is Cas. Cas, this is Charlie, Jo, Victor, and Bela,” she says, pointing to each as she calls out their names.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Cas says, trying to keep his discomfort out of his voice. He sits down in the first empty seat he sees, trying to get the attention off of him.

The perky redhead sitting next to him, Charlie he thinks, turns to him and says, “Cas, I’ve always wanted to ask you. Where does the name Castiel come from?”

“Angels,” he says. “Castiel is the angel of Thursday.”

“Seriously? That’s so awesome! You know, my birth name is actually Celeste, which means something about like, heaven or the sky or something.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah, I go by Charlie though,” she says. “I wanted something more gender neutral, you know? Hey, if you combine our names, you almost get ‘celestial’! How cool is that?!”

Cas smiles softly. He’s pretty sure he likes Charlie. She’s enthusiastic and trying really hard to make Cas feel included. Maybe sitting here won’t be all bad.

“Did we just become best friends?” she says, lightly punching him on the arm. He looks at her and then down at his arm, frowning.

“Hey, look who’s here,” Dean says, setting his tray down and sitting down in the seat across from Cas. “Did you meet everyone?”

“Yes, Lisa was kind enough to introduce me,” he replies.

Dean laughs, opening his mouth despite there being food in it. “Yeah, she did the same to me.”

“Dean, close your mouth,” Cas says.

“So. Homecoming,” Lisa says. There’s a collective groan from the table. “Hey, come on! I’m on the planning committee, I can’t show up by myself.”

Cas has heard of the Homecoming dance, of course. There’s flyers all over the school. He’s never actually been to a school dance himself, but he knows what they’re like in TV shows. He’s mildly curious, but not curious enough to actually go. He hopes Lisa doesn’t seriously try to ask him, because he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to say no to her. He already saw how he couldn’t say no to her when she asked him to sit here.

“Good luck, Cas,” Victor says, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. “She’s about to start in on you.”

“Cas has already turned me down,” she says, pouting.

“Tell you what,” Dean says, clapping a hand down on the table. “I’ll go if at least one of you does too.” He looks at Cas as he says this, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Not it,” Jo, Victor, and Bela say at the same time. They all start laughing and point at Charlie.

“Hey!” Charlie shouts. “That so doesn’t count!”

“Sorry, Charlie, rules are rules,” Victor says.

“Um, what’s happening?” Cas leans over and asks Charlie. He looks over at Dean for support but he’s too busy laughing, the traitor.

“I think we just got roped into being each other’s date to the dance,” Charlie says, scowling at the rest of the table. “Which totally shouldn’t count because I wasn’t ready but whatever. I’m not a sore loser.”

“Wait, we what?” Cas asks, lost.

“We said ‘not it’, Cas. You didn’t,” Victor explains. “It totally counts.”

Charlie sighs. “Whatever.”

“Oh,” Cas says.

“Guys, really?” Lisa says, beaming. She looks so happy that it makes Cas want to smile too. “You three will go, then?”

“I guess,” Charlie mutters. “You better buy me a nice corsage, Cas. And don’t even _think_ about getting lucky,” she says, pointing at him with her fork.

“I wasn’t – I –” Cas stutters. He can feel the blush rising to his cheeks at what she said, and when everyone starts laughing, he has to fight the urge to run away.

“Relax, I’m kidding,” she says. “Well, it’s true, but I’m still kidding.”

“I assure you I wasn’t thinking about… ‘getting lucky’.”

“Dean, who’s your date?” Jo asks, changing the subject, for which Cas is grateful. Though when he registers what she actually said, he rethinks his gratitude. Cas resolutely avoids looking at Dean. He doesn’t want to hear about how he’s going with Lisa.

“Going solo, I guess,” he says, after biting into his apple.

Cas lifts his head in surprise. “What?” he says before he can stop himself.

“What?” Dean says back.

“You two aren’t going together?” Cas asks, gesturing to him and Lisa.

Lisa blushes and ducks her head. “Uh, we’re not –“ she says, at the same time as Dean.

“Oh.” They’re not together. That’s…interesting.

“You can be our date, Dean,” Charlie says, cutting through the awkward tension and patting his shoulder. “Right, Cas?”

If Cas thought he was blushing before, he knows he is now. “I, um…”

Charlie laughs at him. “See, Cas is excited too.”

It seems like Lisa is the only one to take pity on him, saying, “Cas, if you really don’t want to go, you don’t have to.” It just makes Cas feel worse for ever thinking anything negative about her.

“Um, it’s okay. I’ll go. I am kind of curious what a real school dance will be like,” he says.

Lisa smiles at him, her eyes warm. “You’re awesome, Cas. Thanks.”

“No problem,” he says, feeling a smile creep onto his face as well.


	6. Chapter 6

_cas!! what color tie are you gonna wear to the dance?_

**I only have two ties. I have a dark blue one and a blue and white striped one.**

_ok well can you buy a new tie?_

**I suppose I could.**

_great! what do you think of red? there’s a red dress here at the mall that is practically calling my nameee_

**Okay.**

_don’t strain yourself_

**I’m sorry. I’m very excited about the red dress. :)**

_oh shuddup_

Cas smiles down at his phone. He and Charlie have been texting ever since the day they met. It was weird at first, because he’s never really had someone talking to him by choice before, but he’s quickly gotten used to it. It kind of makes him wish he could text Dean, though. But no _way_ is he asking Dean for his number. He’d never hear the end of it.

He’s also slowly realizing that he actually feels…excited about going to the dance. Whenever he thinks about it, he feels a surge in his chest and a rush of anticipation flows through his body. He’s anxious, but he thinks it's a good kind of anxious. Plus, he’ll get to hang out with Charlie and Dean, and even Lisa. He would go through a lot worse than a dance to spend time with them.

_come meet me at the mall!! i’ll still be here a while_

**Alright. See you soon.**

She responds with three thumbs up emojis and Cas smiles. He wasn’t planning on going out today, but he’s surprised to find he actually _wants_ to go. His fondness for Charlie is winning out over his inability to get out of bed, a fact that is kind of terrifying if he focuses on it for too long.

Because he lives just about too far to walk, to get to the mall Cas has to use public transportation, something he _really_ doesn’t want to do. But he does it, somehow. He just gets on the bus and puts his headphones in and focuses on staying calm. He stares out of the bus window and watches the trees go by, doing casual breathing exercises while he does.

When he gets to the mall, he still feels anxious and he kind of wants to just stay on the bus and go back home, but he tries to remind himself that he won’t be able to keep the few friends he’s gained if he never leaves his comfort zone. Discomfort is a catalyst for change. Besides, he’s already here.

He texts Charlie to ask what store she’s in and she tells him she’s in Macy’s. Cas tries not to groan because of _course_ Charlie’s in the biggest store in the mall. He sighs and puts his phone back in the pocket of his hoodie. When he gets to the store, it’s as crowded as ever. He stands near the entrance, feeling awkward, as he scans the crowd for Charlie. He finally spots her red hair near the jewelry section and he walks over to her.

“Cas!” she exclaims when she sees him walk up. “You made it!” She pulls him into a hug immediately, startling him, but she holds on long enough for him to lightly tap her back.

“Yes,” he says, still a little subdued. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Likewise, dude. Okay, so I know I said I found a dress, but I’ve kinda found, like, six more. Would you have any interest in a montage-like trying on session?” She punctuates this by batting her eyelashes at him. “Please?”

“Alright.”

“Yay!” she squeals. “They let me save a room so they’re all already back there. Let’s go!” She grabs his arm and pulls him with her to the dressing rooms. Cas sits down on the plush bench in the middle of the area while he waits for her to put the first one on. He pulls out his phone and fiddles around with it while he waits.

An hour and seven dresses later, Charlie has her pick. In the end, she decides to go with her first choice, a strapless floor length red dress. She tells Cas after they check out that now is as good a time as any to buy a red tie. They go to the men’s section of the store and find one easily, only taking a few minutes. Cas is almost surprised at the sharp wave of disappointment that hits him, because he wants to spend more time with Charlie. He assumes that without a task at hand she won’t be interested, and he doesn’t know how to ask her for more.

“What do you want to do now?” she asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“I’m open to whatever you want,” he says, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

She stops walking suddenly, and when Cas looks back at her, her face is scrunched up in thought.

“What?”

“I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I’ve been thinking about it for a long time and I think I’m ready.”

“Charlie, I think we’re too young to start thinking about marriage.”

She laughs and says, “Hush, you. Come on."

Another hour later, and there’s a big pile of red hair sitting on the floor and a very happy Charlie admiring herself in the mirror. “Eee! I love it so much!” she exclaims. “Cas! Do you like it?!”

“It looks great, Charlie. Just as great as the last time you asked me.”

She runs her fingers through her now ear length hair and swishes it around. “Ah, I’m so happy I did this. And I’m so happy you were here with me!” she adds, putting her hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “I like you, Cas. You’re awesome.”

Cas flushes, a smile spreading wide on his face. “Thank you, Charlie. I like you, too.”

Charlie gets an odd expression on her face then, and she looks like she’s debating something in her head. “About that…look, I don’t wanna do this but Jo and Bela said I have to make sure so I’m just gonna say it. You know I’m gay, right? Like, this is strictly platonic bonding we’re doing here.”

“Um,” Cas says, caught off guard. “I didn’t know that. But I considered this to be ‘strictly platonic bonding’ as well.”

Charlie sighs in what looks like relief. “Oh, thank God. Because I like you too much for this to be ruined by something like that. I figured we were on the same page but they said I had to be sure.”

“I understand.” Cas debates whether or not he should tell her he’s gay too. He trusts her, despite their short friendship, but he’s never told anyone but Claire before. “So am I.”

“Hm?” she says, already distracted again by her new hair.

“I’m gay too.” He feels a strange sensation at telling her that – he feels like a weight’s been lifted and added at the same time.

Cas has nothing to worry about when it comes Charlie, though, because she grabs his hand in solidarity and gives him a look that says what words probably couldn’t.

“You’re the only person besides my sister that knows that,” Cas says, almost to himself.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Cas,” she says, smiling at him. “But since we’re sharing, I have to ask…Dean?”

Cas feels his stomach drop. “What – what about him?” he stammers.

She smirks.

“Charlie. Don’t.”

“I didn’t say a word.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Cas! Cas!”

Cas turns around from his place at his locker at the sound of his name being called and sees a bright head of red hair running towards him. She keeps running until she stops just short of ramming into him.

“Cas! Hi,” Charlie says in between pants. “Give me a minute.” She holds up a finger and takes a few moments to catch her breath. “Okay, I’m good.”

Cas frowns at her. “What’s going on?”

“I got tickets to the carnival!” she squeals.

“Oh. That’s nice.”

She lightly punches him in the arm. “Can you at least _try_ to act excited?”

“I’m sorry, I’m very excited for you. I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”

“Cas…you do realize I’m telling you because I’m inviting you, right?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_. So are you coming or what? The tickets are for Friday night.”

“You want me to come?” he asks, hesitant.

“Obviously. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course. I’m sorry, you just…surprised me. I’d love to come with you.”

She squeals again. “Yay! So it’ll be us, Lisa, Jo, Victor, and Bela.”

Cas is hit with a piercing wave of disappointment that she didn’t mention Dean, but he tries not to show it on his face.

“Oh,” she adds. “And Dean. Must have slipped my mind,” she says, the smirk on her face giving away her little game. Cas gives her a disapproving look and she just smiles.

“I haven’t told anyone else yet, though. I wanted to run it by you first since you're new to us and all. No spoilers, Cas!”

***

“Okay, listen up, bitches!” Charlie yells from the head of the table, clapping her hands together for emphasis. The noise from the group dies out as everyone turns their heads to face her.

“Yes, my queen?” Dean asks, batting his eyelashes and clasping his hands together under his chin. Cas laughs while trying to keep his mouth full of food closed.

“Quiet, you,” Charlie says. “Now, as I was saying. Friday night. Anyone got plans?”

“Got a hot date,” Victor says.

“Well, cancel it.” She pulls a pile of small papers from her backpack and holds them behind her back, a grin slowly forming on her face. She winks at Cas before she says, “I got us all tickets to the carnival!” Her short red hair bounces up and down with her as she waves the tickets back and forth in the air.

“The _carnival_?” Bela says in distaste.

“Ooh, fun!” Lisa squeals, a wide smile appearing on her face. She reaches over and grabs one of the tickets out of Charlie’s hand, reading it with excitement.

Dean looks at Cas in interest. He raises his eyebrows and shrugs, as if saying ‘why not?’. Cas makes the same face, agreeing with him.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” she pleads to the naysayers. Cas judges from the looks on their faces, that includes Bela, Jo, and Victor.

“How old are you again?” Jo says.

Charlie sits back in her seat and pouts. “Fine. That’s the last time I try to do something for you guys.”

“Charlie, me and Cas will go. Sounds like Lisa’s game too. It’s not a total bust,” Dean says, patting her on the shoulder.

She sighs. “Whatever.”

“You didn’t pay for those tickets, did you?” Jo asks, a note of sympathy and regret in her voice.

“They’re free for students. Lucky for you. You bet your ass you guys would be going if I did.”

“So what exactly happens at the carnival?” Cas asks, thinking out loud to no one in particular.

“Come on Cas, you’ve seen a carnival before. Rides, fun houses, arcade-type stuff. Plus…funnel cakes,” Dean says. “Imagine how many funnel cakes you can eat in one sitting and then quadruple it. Sound good?”

“Sounds…sickening.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re going,” Dean says, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Cas, you should like it. You like scary movies, don’t you?” Charlie asks.

“Yes. Why?”

“It’s like a Halloween carnival. So everything Dean said, except scary,” she says.

“Meaning?” Cas asks, getting more anxious the more she talks.

“Meaning everyone will be wearing a costume of some sort, and the fun houses are haunted houses, and everything is done in the dark. That’s basically it.”

“Oh, you’re right. Sounds exactly like something I’d like,” Cas deadpans.

"Well you're our resident goth boy! If you're not into it, who would be?"

Cas rolls his eyes. "The way a person dresses doesn't discern their taste in carnivals."

“C'mon, Cas. I didn’t know it was a Halloween carnival, that sounds awesome!” Dean says. He sounds like a little kid, so excited that it lightens Cas up a little.

“It’s called _A Night in Hell_ ,” Charlie says.

“ _A Night in Hell_? How encouraging,” Cas says.

“Come on, Cas, don’t back out!” Charlie begs.

He sighs. “I mean, I’ll go. I guess,” Cas says, nonchalant, as if his mind wasn’t already made up the minute Dean agreed. “I can’t promise I’ll like it though. Or want to stay very long.”

“That’s fine, Cas! We haven’t done anything as a group since you joined us so I just really want us all to have fun,” Charlie says. “It’ll be awesome.” She gives him a side hug, squeezing him reassuringly.

***

Friday night can’t come soon enough. Cas’s chest hurts all week, the anxiety flitting through him at all hours of the day, and he kind of just wants to get it over with, if only to make the uneasiness go away. He’s never hung out with a group of people before, except maybe Claire and her friends a few times. And the fact that Dean is one of the people he’s hanging out with is making the anxiety a hundred times worse.

On Friday morning, Cas is standing at his locker, getting the books he needs for his next class when he sees a familiar pair of boots walk up to him. He looks up, into the bright and shining face of Dean Winchester.

“Hey, Cas,” he says, leaning up against the locker beside him.

“Hello, Dean. How are you?”

“I’m doing fine, how ‘bout you?”

“I’m fine as well.”

“So, you excited for tonight? The carnival?”

“I am. I’ve never been before, have you?”

“I just moved here, Cas.”

“Oh, right, of course.” Cas mentally berates himself and he tries to remind himself to act normal.

“It sounds awesome, but I’m not really sure what to expect. Like, are there rides? Or is it a bunch of haunted houses that you walk through or something? Like in movies?”

“I really have no idea. My sister has been before and I asked her to tell me what to expect and she said no. That that was my punishment for not inviting her,” he grumbles.

“Maybe I’ll ask her, then. We’ve got math together next. You know, I actually kinda like the girl now,” he adds, smiling.

Cas tilts his head and frowns. “Did you not like her before?”

“No! No, don’t get me wrong, she’s awesome, but…kinda scary. I think it’s the eyeliner.”

Cas laughs and feels a fond smile grow on his face. “She doesn’t really know how to show it, but she has an incredibly good heart. You have nothing to fear around her. Except your ego, maybe, if you upset her. She definitely has…a way with words, we’ll say.”

Dean snorts. “No doubt about that. So anyway, carnival. Do you…I can – do you want – I can give you a ride, if you want?”

“Um, if you don’t mind, that would be – yes, that would be fine,” he says, avoiding Dean’s eyes. God, he can’t even have a conversation about transportation, can he?

“Awesome. I don’t know if anyone else will want a ride, like if they’ll all want to go together or something. Guess we can figure it out at lunch?”

“I guess,” he says casually.

The warning bell rings then, and Dean looks up at the sound. “See you later?”

“Of course.”


	8. Chapter 8

Cas is pacing.

He tends to run when he gets anxious – literally. He once started having a panic attack and sprinted out of a dentist’s office and down the street, only finally stopping because he couldn’t breathe anymore.

So right now, he’s pacing. It’s an alternative to running, he tells himself. He’s walked the length of his bedroom approximately sixteen times in the past minute.

The doorbell rings while he’s working through his hundredth imaginary scenario of how the night will go.

“I got it!” Cas yells. He practically bounces down the stairs and pulls open the door. He’s greeted with the sight of Dean, who’s standing on the front porch, leaning against the pillar. He’s wearing…a costume. Cas feels his stomach drop – he was so busy worrying that he completely forgot he was supposed to wear a costume.

“Cas!” Dean says when his eyes land on him.

“I know, I know,” Cas says, clapping his hand over his face. “I’m sorry.”

As he’s thinking about what to do, Claire appears beside him and puts her arm around his shoulders. “Oh hey De –” she says, cutting herself off as she bursts into laughter. “Oh my God.”

“Shut up,” Dean says.

“Han Solo? Seriously?” she says between giggles.

“Don’t start, you two,” Cas says.

“Yeah, tell her that,” Dean says, pointing at Claire accusingly.

“Both of you.” Cas sighs and says, “Let’s just go.”

“You seriously think I’m gonna walk around like this all night by myself?” Dean asks, raising his eyebrows and gesturing to his outfit.

“I’m sure Charlie and Lisa didn’t forget. Besides, I don’t have a costume. And it’s not like I’m going to wear the one Claire has.”

And apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Dean’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning. Cas squints in confusion and looks over at Claire, and she has the same expression on her face as Dean. And that’s how Cas ends up in the bathroom, Claire’s face hovering above his, while she’s casually drawing on his face with her trusty eyeliner.

“I still don’t see why this is necessary,” Cas says, his nose itching where Claire’s painting over it.

“You wear eyeliner all the time, Cas, don’t act like this is new for you,” Claire says.

“On my eyes, not my whole face.”

“Charlie’s gonna flip, man. You always see girls dressed up as cats, not guys. And you know how much she’s into that ‘breaking the gender norms’ stuff,” Dean says from where he’s standing in the doorway.

Claire looks over at him, an almost proud expression on her face.

“What?” Dean asks gruffly.

Claire laughs and goes back to the task at hand. “I still don’t see why I can’t come,” she says.

“Try because you’re like twelve,” Dean says.

“Dean,” Cas sighs. “I’m sorry, Claire. Maybe next year.”

“The thanks I get for doing this for you,” she mutters.

“I didn’t ask you to,” Cas reminds her. “You offered. And Dean accepted. I had no say in this.”

“Whatever. I’m done,” she says, leaning back and putting the cap back on her eyeliner. “What do you think?”

Cas stands up from the closed toilet seat he was sitting on and looks at himself in the mirror. He has two perfect wings sprouting from his eyes – the kind of eyeliner he always sees Claire wearing – and the tip of his nose is colored in. She also drew little whiskers along his cheeks.

“I…like it? I guess? I mean, I look like a cat, so I guess you succeeded in what you were going for. I still don’t understand how I got roped into this, though.”

Claire gasps as if she’s had a brilliant thought. “I’ll get my headband for you too!” she says excitedly.

“Oh, please hurry,” Cas deadpans. He looks at Dean and he's suppressing a snicker. "Shut up," Cas says.

"I didn't say anything."

Claire bounces back into the bathroom a minute later and puts the cat ears headband on his head for him. “You look awesome, Cas. Seriously. Everyone’s gonna love it.”

“And if anyone doesn’t, I have a…cowboy to fight for my honor,” Cas says, nudging Dean with his elbow. “Right, Dean?”

“Cas, I’m Han Solo!”

***

“Eeeee!” Charlie squeals when she opens her front door and sees Cas. “Cas! You look amazing!” She throws her arms around him and squeezes.

“Thank you,” he says as she lets go, absentmindedly playing with the ears on the headband. “It was all Claire and Dean’s idea.”

“And _you_ , my queen,” Dean says. He pretends to bow before Charlie. “You look awesome.”

“Thank you, my fair handmaiden,” Charlie replies, fanning herself. “As do you.”

“I feel underdressed,” Cas says. “At least next to you two.” Cas can’t tell what exactly Charlie is supposed to be, but she looks like some type of warrior or something.

“No, Cas! You look awesome, seriously. You look like you’re cosplaying as like a punk cat or something, with all your piercings and stuff. I love it.” She squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “Come on, let’s go.” She grabs her purse off of the table next to her front door and closes the door behind her.

“I’m so excited, aren’t you guys?” Charlie asks once they’re back in Dean’s car.

“I’m a little nervous,” Cas admits. “I don’t really know what to expect.”

“You can always sit out if it sounds like it’s too much, buddy,” Dean says, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Don’t patronize me, Dean.”

“Yeah, Dean,” Charlie says. “Don’t patronize him. Cas can handle it, can’t you, Cas?” she says, talking like one would to a baby, with a condescending pat to his head and everything.

“I’m not a toddler," he snaps. "I can ‘handle’ an amusement park."

Charlie hisses and meows at him like a cat, looking dramatically offended.

Cas laughs and closes his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m just…anxious. I’ve never done this before.”

“We’re Cas’s first friends,” Dean says to clarify, looking at Charlie in the rearview mirror where she's sitting in the backseat. “He’s new to this.”

“Shut up, Dean,” Cas says.

“Yeah, shut up, Dean. We’re gonna have so much fun, Cas. Try not to worry about it,” Charlie says.

The rest of the car ride to Lisa’s house is spent listening to Dean make his way through what he calls “Zeppelin, man!”. It’s a little amusing and a lot endearing listening to him sing.

When they finally make it to Lisa’s, she’s already on her porch waiting, so they don’t bother to get out and greet her. Cas can’t tell what her costume is supposed to be from his seat in the car.

“Is she…” Charlie and Dean say at the same time. Cas looks at Charlie and he can hear her whisper 'uh oh'. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when Lisa opens the car door and gets in.

“Hey guys!” she squeals. Cas turns around to smile at her and a wide grin appears on her face. “Cas! You look so cute!”

He blushes and mutters a ‘thanks’. “What are you supposed to be?” he asks her.

She looks at him like he’s grown a third head. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Star Wars, Cas.”

“Uh, no, I haven’t. Are you someone from Star Wars?”

“I’m only Princess Leia. Seriously, how do you not –” she says, cutting herself off. “Oh.” She’s looking at Dean with a strange expression on her face.

“Heh, great minds think alike, huh?” Dean says.

“Guess so,” she replies, an uneasy smile on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Cas wonders out loud.

“Han Solo and Princess Leia are usually a couple’s costume,” Charlie says, “and now it’s awkward.”

“Oh,” Cas says.

“It’s not awkward,” Lisa says. “It’s not always a couple’s costume. And we’re not a couple, so it’s not a couple’s costume by definition.”

Cas likes Lisa, and he's grateful that she's able to be reasonable. He can't help, though, that a sick feeling is starting to spread through his stomach. Everyone at the carnival is going to think Lisa and Dean are a couple. Great. No big deal. He was actually starting to feel excited about the night, so it’s only standard that something happened to ruin that.

“You could always just walk around holding _my_ hand,” Charlie says. “Just so no one gets the wrong idea.” She winks lasciviously at Lisa.

Lisa bursts out in laughter at that and they start messing around, Cas paying them little attention. He spaces out after that, lost in his own thoughts. Of course Lisa and Dean are wearing a couple’s costume. Because that’s just how life is for Cas.

They get to the park a few minutes later, and they sit in a line of traffic for a while until they finally find a parking spot. They all get out and stretch their legs for a minute, and Charlie squeals and grabs onto Lisa’s hand. They both start jumping excitedly, and it’s entirely too cheerful for Cas’s current state. Dean leans against the car and lets them have their moment.

Cas doesn't know what to do. His mood has been effectively ruined. Plus, there’s about a million people walking into the park and Cas is starting to feel the anxiety of _that_ , on top of everything else.

Once Charlie and Lisa calm down, they get behind the crowd and start making their way into the park. Cas walks a little bit behind them, not wanting to ruin their fun with his sour mood. Charlie looks back a few times with a look of pity on her face.

Cas is mostly looking down at his feet while he walks, so he doesn’t notice Dean’s turned around until he speaks.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Is this about Lisa? You jealous or something?”

Cas’s stomach drops at that and he scrambles his brain searching for something to say. “What – “

“‘Cause we could trade costumes, you know. I’m sure she’d be down with it. I’m a little taller than you but I’m sure it’d fit,” Dean says. He claps Cas on the shoulder and winks at him.

It takes Cas a minute to register what he actually said, but once he does, his heartbeat slowly returns to normal. “Shut up, Dean,” is all he says.

“Come on, Cas.”

“I just...I feel stupid, Dean. With my stupid makeup and stupid headband. I just want to go…stupid home.”

“First of all, you don’t look stupid. Everyone’s in costume. You would’ve stood out more if you _weren’t_ wearing one.” Okay, good point. “Second, you always wear makeup. And, I mean…we’re just here to have some fun, Cas. It’s not a big deal.”

“Maybe not for you, but it is for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You weren’t wrong when you said you guys are my first friends, Dean.”

“What, you think you’re gonna do something wrong and we’ll like, shun you or something?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s just a little overwhelming for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Dean says. “I can’t tell you what to feel. I’m just saying…try to have fun.”

“I am trying.”

“I know. But tell you what, if it gets to be too much, I’ll take you home. Okay?”

Cas smiles at him with his eyes. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on.”

They finally get to the opening of the park after what feels like a mile of walking. The first thing Cas sees is a clown taking everyone’s tickets. It doesn’t look like the type of clown you’d see at like, a kid’s birthday party or something. No, this clown looks…dead. It’s white face paint is more of a dull grey, and it has blood pouring out of its empty-looking eye sockets.

“Why did there have to be clowns,” Cas mutters to himself, kicking at a rock on the ground.

They eventually get to the front of the line and the clown takes their tickets. He doesn’t say a word to them the whole time which makes the costume even creepier. At least to Cas.

They walk through the front gate and Dean immediately suggests they get food.

“I need a funnel cake, like, yesterday,” he says.

“Dean, we _just_ got here. You’re gonna throw up if you eat before the rides,” Charlie says.

“Do you see any rides?” Dean says, gesturing to the whole park. “It’s not that type of carnival. It’s just a bunch of haunted houses and stuff.”

“Ugh, fine. Cas, go with him to get a funnel cake and me and Lisa will check out the rest of the park. We’ll meet you back here in twenty.” Charlie winks at Cas before she and Lisa take off.

“Yes!” Dean says, clenching his fists in the air and grinning at Cas.

Cas sighs and pretends to be put out, as if spending time alone with Dean is a chore. “Well, let’s go then,” Cas says.

It doesn’t take long to find food. Even though it’s getting dark, it’s easy to see that there are vendors all around the park with varying-in-size lines. They get in one, behind two people dressed as something Cas can’t identify.

“What are you two supposed to be?” he asks them.

“Uh, Steve and Bucky, dude,” one of them says, eyeing him warily. “You live under a rock or something?”

“He doesn’t watch movies, apparently,” Dean says. “He thought I was a _cowboy_.”

“No way,” one of them laughs. “Han Solo, right?”

“Thank you! See, he gets it, Cas.”

“Shouldn’t the cat be dressed as Princess Leia?”

Cas looks up at the mention of his costume. “Me?”

Dean coughs, loud and sudden. He sounds like he’s choking. “Uh, we’re not, uh…we’re not a –“

“Oh, sorry, man. Thought you two were, you know.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean mutters.

“You thought we were what? And why would I be dressed as Princess Leia?”

“Don’t worry about it, Cas,” Dean repeats, his voice on edge.

Cas frowns at Dean. “Alright, then.”

They don’t talk anymore as they wait for their turn in line. When they reach the front, Dean orders two large funnel cakes.

“Oh, I don’t want one, Dean,” Cas says, shaking his head.

Dean looks at him, eyebrows scrunched together. “Who said it’s for you?”

***

“Aaaaah!”

“Charlie! That was in my ear!

“Sorry, Lis – aaaah!”

“ _Charlie_!”

Cas sighs. So far, all this “ride” has consisted of is people screaming every three seconds when something loud scares them. They have sacks over their heads, because apparently that sounded like a good idea, and they’ve been walking with their hands on the shoulder of the person in front of them. It feels as if they’ve been walking for miles and he has no idea how much longer this will go on.

“Is this almost over?” Dean yells. He’s asking the real questions.

“I think s – aaaah!”

Five minutes and a lot of screaming later, they’re all outside and out of the ride.

“Thanks for screaming in my ear, Charlie,” Dean says, sticking his finger in his ear and shaking it.

“I screamed in everyone’s ear, you’re not special.”

“Okay, what next?” Lisa says, bouncing up and down in excitement.

“I need a break,” Cas says. He looks around for somewhere to sit and sees an open bench a few feet away. He gratefully sits down and tries to do an inconspicuous breathing exercise.

Dean sits down next to him and offers him his water bottle.

“Thank you,” Cas says appreciatively.

Dean looks around the park for a minute and then lets out a bark of laughter and runs off. Cas watches him and sees him walk up to the dead-looking clown that took their tickets. They talk for a minute and Dean pulls out his phone and…is he taking a selfie? With the clown?

He walks back over, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What was that?” Cas asks.

“Just a little present for Sammy.”

Cas sighs. “Dean, don’t torture your little brother.”

***

They decide to end the evening with the hay ride, which apparently consists of riding a tractor through a bunch of hay while things jump out and scare you. It actually sounds modest compared to some of the things Cas has had to endure on this night. At least he’ll get to sit down. He’s still pretty sure he’s going to have a nightmare where he’s killed by a clown. He’s not going to mention that to Dean, but he considers telling Sam. Maybe they can bond or something.

They get on the tractor one by one, and Cas subtly tries to order the line so he gets to sit next to Dean. They sit down and settle into their seats, and their arms are touching. Cas is pretty sure this is the closest he’s ever been to Dean.

“I wasn’t thinking of how cold I would be in this costume,” Dean says.

“Do you want to wear my hoodie?” Cas offers.

“No,” Dean says gruffly. “I should’ve come as Finn or something. At least I’d have that jacket.”

“Who’s that?” Cas asks.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Look it up.”

“Dean, don’t be mean,” Lisa says. “Hey, you know what we should do? Star Wars marathon sleepover!”

Charlie gasps. “Yes! I’m so in!”

“I could be down with that. Cas?” Dean says.

“I guess, if it’s so important to you guys that I see this movie.”

“Try seven movies, Cas.”

“ _Four_ movies,” Charlie says.

“Oh, here we go,” Dean says, rolling his eyes.

“We’ll let Cas decide how many we watch,” Lisa says.

“Whatever.”

The ride starts moving then, and Cas feels a wave of nervous energy wash through him.

“It’s moving so slow, it’s creeping me out,” Charlie says after a minute.

“The _speed_ is what’s creeping you out?”

“Shush.”

This ride goes about the same as all the others, meaning there’s a lot of yelling and a lot of jump scares. Cas has watched enough scary movies that they don’t seem to affect him as much as the others, a fact he’s finding more and more funny as the night goes on.

Something jumps into the tractor and everyone screams. Cas laughs, and then he feels Dean shift against him and all of a sudden, there’s something in his hand. No, there’s something _holding_ his hand. For a second, he thinks the creature/person/whatever it is is touching him, but when he looks down, it’s not. It’s Dean’s hand. Dean is holding his hand. Their fingers aren’t interlocked or anything, he obviously just grabbed it in surprise.

That doesn’t stop Cas’s stomach from dropping to his feet. This is the most scared he’s been all night.

He looks up at Dean and Dean’s gaze is on their hands. He immediately pulls his hand back once he realizes. Cas hopes it’s too dark to see how red he must be.

Neither of them says anything for the rest of the ride.

***

“Best. Night. Ever,” Charlie says once they’re back in the car, leaning back against her seat with a drawn out exhale.

“Agreed,” Lisa says. “We should make this a yearly tradition.”

Cas doesn’t say anything, and Dean just grunts in what sounds like agreement.

“So. Our next move is movie night, yes?” Charlie says. “Cas? You in?”

“Sure.”

“Yay! Let’s make a plan on Monday. I’m too tired to function anymore tonight.”

They keep driving and drop off Charlie and Lisa at their houses, promising to see each other at school. Soon enough, it’s just Cas and Dean in the car.

Cas stares out the window, watching the trees go past the car as they drive. He wants to do or say _something_ , but he’s coming up empty.

“Did you, uh, have a good time, Cas?” Dean says, saving him the trouble. “You didn’t make me take you home early, so I’m guessing it was okay?”

“Yes. It was…fun. I like your friends.”

Dean snorts. “I think it’s safe to say they’re your friends too.”

“Well, regardless. I enjoyed it.”

“Me too.”

They get to Cas’s house a minute later, but Cas doesn’t want to leave. They sit there in silence for a minute, the engine idling, neither of them speaking.

Cas looks at him and he immediately has to look away, because it’s dark and they’re sitting really close to each other and Cas likes him too much and everything is too much.

“Good night,” Cas says, and he quickly gets out of the car.

“Night, Cas,” he hears before he shuts the door.


	9. Chapter 9

“Why does she keep _giggling_?" Cas says, eyeing Dean and Lisa with distaste as he distractedly holds a beaker. "Dean isn’t that funny.”

“Stop staring at them, Cas."

“I’m serious, Charlie, she just keeps laughing. Watch," Cas says, inconspicuously pointing at them with his head.

“No, I’m not gonna watch. Now would you please help me with this project, _partner_?”

Cas looks down at the experiment on the lab table that Charlie is currently working on alone. “I’m sorry, it’s just…I wish they’d do something already. I can’t take this will they, won’t they stuff. I feel like I’m stuck in a bad sitcom.”

“You sound like you want them to get together.”

“No, I just want them to _do_ something. Do they like each other or not? I don’t want to be stuck here waiting for them to _maybe_ start dating.”

“He hangs out with you just as much as he hangs out with her.”

“Still…”

“Stop paying that much attention to them, Cas. It’s not healthy.”

“You’re not healthy,” he mutters, kicking at an imaginary rock on the linoleum.

She snorts. “Okay, you’re obviously spending too much time with Dean.”

“Do you think he likes her?” he asks in a small voice.

“I don’t know, Cas.”

“Can she at least stop with the fake laughter?”

Charlie sets down her pencil and sighs. “You know why she’s laughing, right?”

He squints at her. “What do you mean?”

“She likes him, duh. When you like someone, everything they say is funny.”

“I don’t laugh at everything Dean says.”

“No, you don’t laugh. You just stare. Like you’re doing right now.”

Cas unwillingly tears his eyes away from them. “Fine. Whatever.”

***

“Cas! Cas!”

“Miss Bradbury!” the librarian says, standing up from her seat and scolding her.

“Sorry, Ms. Macloed!” she yells, not even bothering to slow or quiet down.

Cas laughs as she continues to run to his table.

“Cas!” she fervently whispers as she reaches him. She slides into the chair closest to him, almost knocking it over, and says, “Big news, big big BIG news!”

“What’s going on?” Cas asks, worried.

“Lisa asked Dean out!”

The blood drains from Cas’s face. “What?”

“I know. But that’s not even the biggest part.”

A sick feeling is spreading through Cas’s stomach. “Charlie, I don’t want…”

“He said _no_.”

“I – what?”

“Yep,” she says, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. “I don’t have all the details yet but. Yeah.”

Cas sets his pencil down and calmly folds his hands on the table in front of him. “This is none of our business,” he says flatly.

“Oh, come on, Cas, none of that ‘high road’ bullshit. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Charlie, Lisa is our friend. Despite our…similar choices in men, she’s still our friend. She might be upset and we have to care for her as we would if it was any other guy that turned her down.”

“You were just talking about her this morning. Remember the laughter?”

“Yes, but like I said, she’s our friend. The rest doesn’t matter.”

“Okay. I get that. But can we please just put our good will toward men aside for _two seconds_ so you can tell me what you’re thinking.”

Cas sighs and drops his head onto his crossed arms, burrowing in like a cocoon. “I can’t say what I’m thinking,” he says, his voice muted from his sweater.

“I’m not gonna think you’re a horrible person if you’re happy about this, Cas.”

“I’m not happy. I’m just…” He cuts himself off with another weary sigh. “I’m happy that Dean’s still single, I guess. But what I don’t get is _why_. Why would Dean turn Lisa down? She’s his friend, and she’s beautiful, funny, kind…I don’t get it.”

“Well. There _are_ reasons why he would turn down a girl like that.”

“Like?”

“He just wants to be friends, he’s gay, _or_ …he’s already into someone – and this is where I’m placing my bets.”

“What do you mean ‘already into someone’?” he asks, frowning at her.

“Oh, no, we are not having this conversation on top of everything else. Figure it out, Casanova.”

He squints at her angrily.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Charlie whispers. “Act normal.” She puts on what Cas assumes is supposed to be a casual smile and says, “Hey, Winchester.”

Cas’s heart jumps into his throat as Dean walks around the table and sits down in the empty seat across from him.

“What’s up? You two look…squirrely.”

“Nothing,” Cas says at the same time Charlie says, “We heard about Lisa.”

Dean chuckles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Of course you did.”

“Dean, you don’t have to talk about it,” Cas says.

“Or you could just tell us what happened directly so we don’t hear a different story from five different people,” Charlie says.

Dean looks between them for a moment and drops his eyes with a sigh. “There’s not really a story to tell. She asked, I said no, she said okay. It’s good, we’re all good. Okay?”

Charlie seems like she’s resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Okay, let’s start with why you said no, then.”

“No, we’re not doing that.”

“Are you gay? Do you like someone else?”

“Charlie. No.”

She huffs in indignation. “Fine. I’ll hear it from someone else, anyway.”

“You do that.”

She leaves then, but not without throwing Cas a wink over her shoulder. She never stops, that girl.

“So…” Dean says awkwardly.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas. Weren’t you worried about a History test this morning? Have you taken it yet?”

Cas smiles at Dean like he’s the fucking sun for remembering that and has to remind himself to reign it in. “No, it’s next period. I’ve been a bit distracted but it’s…coming along.”

“I should probably leave you to it then.”

He moves to get up and Cas says, “You don’t have to go. You could help me study?”

“How? You know I’m not the best in History. You should ask Sammy.”

“Just read the term on the front of the flashcard and tell me if I summarize it correctly, Dean.”

“Suit yourself.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Castiel,” Mrs. Blake calls out as he’s leaving class. He stops in the doorway, causing a few people to bump into him. They scoff in annoyance as he tries to maneuver his way back into the classroom. He huffs quietly when he finally gets back in.

“Yes?”

Her usually soft and pretty face has a slight edge to it, and she seems to nervously push her hair behind her ear. “Castiel,” she says. "Come sit down," she says, motioning towards a desk at the front of the room. He warily sits down and she pauses for a long moment before saying, “is everything okay?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, his heart rate already elevating.

“You’ve seemed…I don’t know, not well. You’ve been doing poorly on tests, and I’ve been getting sporadic homework, and you always look tired and withdrawn. I just want to know if things are okay.”

“Um,” he says, trying to maintain his calm demeanor. “Things are…things are fine.”

She gets this look on her face, like she knows he’s lying but doesn’t know how to call him out on it. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll, um, I'll try harder,” he says.

“You know you can talk to me, right? About anything. I’m here for you. And not just me, I’d say the same for any of your teachers. We all want to help.”

“I know. But everything is fine,” he says, placating her. He feels guilty that her heartfelt words are wasted on him. “Thank you.”

And with that, he leaves.

***

“I think I’m failing Calculus,” Cas says later that day at lunch. He’s been ruminating over what Mrs. Blake said all morning, trying to decide if he should seek out her help or not. It _is_ an appealing offer. He knows, deep down inside, that he’s slowly drowning in a pool full of all the responsibilities he doesn’t want to be held accountable for. She might be able to throw him a small but valuable lifesaver.

Then again, he could just ignore everything and deal with the consequences later.

“What happened?” Charlie asks, her mouth full of potato chips.

“Now see, if I did that you’d call me out,” Dean says to Cas, gesturing to Charlie with his thumb.

“Quiet, you,” Charlie says, bopping him on the nose. “Cas. Calculus. Failing. What happened?”

Cas snorts at Dean and turns his head to address Charlie. “Mrs. Blake kept me after class and asked me if things were ‘okay’.”

She gives a sympathetic wince. “Ouch. What did you say?”

“I just said that things were fine and that I’d try harder.”

“Why’d she think things weren’t okay?” Dean asks, looking strangely concerned.

“I don’t know."

“No one’s good at Calculus, Cas. I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll pass,” Charlie says. It sounds so reasonable that Cas almost believes her.

***

“Hey, Cas, wait up,” Dean says. He puts his hand on Cas’s shoulder and Cas feels it burn like an open flame.

Cas clears his throat and turns around. “What?”

“Easy, grumpy. I just wanted to…” he starts, then trails off. He purses his lips and avoids Cas’s eyes, like he was going to say something then lost the nerve.

“You wanted to what, Dean?”

Dean sighs. “Are you really failing Calculus?”

Cas could lie, but for some reason he doesn’t really see the point. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Do you need a tutor or something?” Dean asks, still not meeting Cas’s eyeline.

“Um, Claire can probably help me?” Cas says, and it comes out like a question. Dean’s gaze roams everywhere but Cas’s face. When he doesn’t say anything else, Cas adds, “Why? Are _you_ offering to be the tutor?”

“Please don’t make a big deal out of this,” Dean mutters, now looking at the ground.

“Dean,” Cas says softly. He doesn’t want to say he’s surprised, because then it sounds like he thought Dean wasn’t smart or something, and that’s not what he’s saying. He’s just a little caught off guard. He puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder and says, “If you’re offering, I – I would be honored if you tutored me.”

“Great,” Dean says gruffly. “Meet me at my car after school, we’ll start today. Cool?”

“Cool.”

***

“Hey, Novak!” Cas hears. He looks up and sees Dean standing by his car, looking impatient. “I don’t have all day, man!”

Cas awkwardly half-runs to Dean. When he reaches him, he says, “You know this was your idea, right?”

“Just get in.”

Cas assumes they’re going to Dean’s house when they start going a different route than the one to Cas’s house. When they get there and pull into the driveway, Cas can’t help but think how…normal this house looks. He’s not sure what exactly he expected.

It’s a white two-story house, and it has a porch that wraps around the bottom half. Cas doesn’t have a porch like that, and it’s something he’s always wanted. It sounds like such a small detail, but it makes all the difference to him. He walks up the steps and sits down on the small swing by the window.

“I love this swing,” he says to Dean’s confused look, putting his hands out and feeling the soft seat cushion beneath his fingers.

"Come inside, Cas."

Cas sighs and gets up. When he walks in, the first room he sees is what he assumes is the living room. It's clean and neat, but it kind of looks like it’s never even been lived in. The walls are a nice off white, but empty of any art or family photos. There’s a big TV, though, with what looks like a gaming console hooked up to it, and Cas smiles as he thinks of the many nights Sam and Dean must have spent playing together.

“Are you all moved in?” Cas asks. “I don’t see any boxes.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, mostly. Took forever, though.”

“Your house is nice, Dean.”

“Thanks. We can work in here,” he says, motioning with his hand to the next room.

The adjoining room that they walk into is the kitchen, a room with yellow walls and a small window over the sink, making it feel bright and comfortable. They sit down at the dining table and pull their Calculus stuff out of their backpacks.

“What chapter are you on?” Dean asks.

“We’re doing, uh…differential equations.”

“Oh, really? Those are easy,” he says, sifting through his notes until he finds the right ones. Cas smiles at him fondly.

“Thank you for offering to do this, Dean.”

Dean looks up and keeps a neutral expression on his face. “Don’t mention it.”

“Can I ask you something, though?”

Dean sighs defeatedly, as if he knew this was coming. He pinches the bridge of his nose and says, “What.”

“Why don’t you want people to know you’re smart?”

“Who said I don’t want people to know?”

“You were acting like we were making a drug deal when you offered.”

“No I wasn’t.”

“Yes you were. You were all shifty-eyed.”

“Do you want to do this or not, Cas?”

“You tell me. You’re the tutor.”

Dean sighs and rubs his hand over his stubble. He picks up two pencils and starts to nervously tap them on the table like drumsticks. “I don’t know, man. People look at me, they don’t expect me to be smart. Sammy’s the brains, I’m the brawn. It’s easier to let them think that. And when I offered to tutor you, I – I don’t know, I thought you’d make fun of me.”

Cas squints at him for a long moment before saying, “That makes no sense, Dean.”

“Well I didn’t ask for your opinion, did I?”

"Why would I make fun of you for being smart?"

"Because that's what we do."

"Well I'm not, nor am I planning to," he says.

A couple hours and a lot of equations later, a thought pops into Cas’s head, unbidden. “Wait a minute,” he says. “All those times you called me a nerd, and you…!”

Dean almost chokes on his soda with his laughter.


	11. Chapter 11

“I’m so excited, aren’t you guys excited?!” Lisa squeals, a wide smile on her face.

Cas, Dean, and Charlie - the ones at the table that got roped into going - all give halfhearted noises of dissent.

“Oh, stop. You can complain all you want but I know you’re gonna have a good time. You just wait and see.”

“I’ve never been to a dance before,” Cas says, scrunching his face in thought. “What do you do?”

Dean shoves half of his sandwich in his mouth and stares at Cas like _he’s_ the odd one at this table. “You dance, genius, what does it sound like?”

“You know what I meant, Dean.”

“Well,” Lisa says, looking between them for a moment before deciding to ignore them. “You do dance. But there’s also food and stuff. It’s mostly just hanging out, but you look really fancy while you do it.”

“How much do you think I’d have to slip the DJ to make him play stuff from my phone? I don’t think I can handle listening to top 40 all night,” Charlie says.

“No, the playlist has already been finalized, Charlie,” Lisa whines, wrapping her hands around Charlie's arm pitifully. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

***

“Cas, your hair looks fine!” Claire yells up the stairs. She looks at the time on her phone again and sees that it’s eight o’clock on the dot, meaning the doors to the dance are just being opened. She sighs in exasperation and stomps her heel on the floor. “Let’s go!”

“I know,” he says from behind her. “I put hair gel in it.”

She jumps with a gasp and turns around to glare at him. “You know I hate when you do that,” she says. “Are you ready or what?”

“I’ve been ready for several minutes. I was waiting for you.”

“Let’s go then – wait, let me look at you.” She hooks her arm with his at the elbow and walks them over to the floor-length mirror in the hall. They look at their reflections for a minute, Claire smoothing her hands over her dress while they do. Cas is wearing a tuxedo that he rented with the bright red tie he bought with Charlie to match her dress. Claire is wearing a strapless turquoise dress that puffs out around her knees, and her long blonde hair is braided intricately around her face.

“We look good, brother.” She claps her hand on his shoulder and says, “Let’s go.”

They get their respective coats and bundle up for a walk in the cold. It’s only about a ten minute walk, but it’s enough to get Cas to wish he could stay home. He wonders, not for the first time, why he agreed to go to this thing. Claire keeps complaining about her cold shins, the only part of her that’s not covered up, and Cas’s patience is wearing thin.

As soon as they arrive, Claire finds Meg and they dash inside, promptly leaving Cas alone. He sighs and looks around at the other students that are still milling about outside, trying to see if he can find any of his friends before he goes in.

“Cas!” he hears from behind him. He turns around and sees Lisa walking up to him, a huge smile on her face. “You made it!”

Cas hasn’t been _avoiding_ Lisa since she asked Dean out, but he hasn’t been not avoiding her either. He assumes she knows they both like the same guy, so he tries to spend as little time alone with her as he can. He usually can get away with it, because there’s always someone else around, but he knows that can’t last forever. He braces himself for an awkward encounter. “Hello,” he says.

“You look awesome!”

“Thank you,” he says. “You look beautiful.” And she does. She’s wearing a long, light blue dress that hugs her body in all the right places, and her hair hangs down around her face in loose curls.

“Aw, thank you,” she says. “Come on, everyone else is inside.” She loops her arm with his at their elbows and leads them into the gymnasium holding the dance.

His first thought when he walks in is _loud_. There’s music blaring from two large speakers by the front of the gym. They’re currently blasting a song Cas has never heard before with a very strong bassline. Cas wishes he could plug his ears or something, it’s just so _loud_.

“You okay?” Lisa says, looking at him with concern in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” he replies.

Cas vaguely remembers looking at a flyer for the dance, and it was blue. The theme for the dance was written on the flyers, and it was something about the ocean, he’s pretty sure. Like ‘Under the Sea’ or something. He can tell from all the blue decorations and blue dresses.

He takes a deep breath and tries to prepare for a night entirely out of his comfort zone.

“Don’t be nervous, Cas. We’re all just here to have a good time,” Lisa says softly near his ear, having to lean up even in her high heels. She smiles at him when he looks at her.

He frowns at her and says, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“What?” she asks, scrunching her eyebrows together in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Charlie shows up behind them a second later, saving him from having to answer her. She pops in between them and puts her arms around their shoulders. “Cas! My date is here!”

“Hi, Charlie.” She’s wearing the red dress Cas helped her pick out, and he snorts when he notices the stark contrast between hers and all the blue ones. He assumes she did that on purpose. “You look very nice.”

“Likewise, Casanova.”

“Where’s Dean?”

“He’s here, tiger, don’t worry.” Cas glares at her and she laughs. “He’s at the punch bowl, okay?”

Cas walks away before she can say anything else in front of Lisa and goes to find Dean. He looks around for the punch bowl and spots it in the northeast corner of the large room.

Dean’s there. In a suit. He’s standing in front of the bowl of punch, pouring himself a cup. Cas pauses where he’s walking, because he needs a minute. Dean just looks so… _Dean_. His jacket is draped on a chair at the table next to him, the sleeves of his white button-up are rolled up, and his tie is askew. It almost hurts to look at him. Cas takes a deep calming breath and closes the distance between them.

“Dean,” he says to his back.

“Hey Cas –“

Dean turns around and the smile on his face drops. He looks Cas up and down a few times and Cas blushes under the attention.

“Damn,” he says. “Who are you tryin’ to impress?”

“Um.” _You._ “No one.”

“Well, uh, you look good, buddy.”

“Um,” Cas repeats, not sure what to say. He tries to remain calm. “Thank you, Dean. You look very nice, as well.”

“Thanks,” he says gruffly, taking a swig of punch. “You hungry?”

Cas nods. “Yes, I didn’t eat dinner. Claire said they’d be serving food.”

“Yeah, they are,” he says, cocking his head in the direction of it. “Let’s go check out the spread.”

There’s not a whole lot of options, but it’s still a decent set-up. They end up getting plates full of chicken wings and breadsticks. They walk back to the table side by side, their arms occasionally brushing. They walk past Lisa and Charlie, who are dancing together, and Charlie winks at him when she notices he’s with Dean.

“So. What do you think?” Dean says as he takes a bite of chicken.

“Dean. That’s impolite.”

“You’re…impolite,” he mutters. He forcefully swallows his food and gives Cas a fake smile.

“What do I think about what?”

“My outfit,” Dean deadpans. “The dance, genius, what else would I mean.”

“I’ve been here for five minutes, Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes and continues eating.

They eat their dinner in companionable silence after that. Cas keeps looking at Dean, but every time he does Dean will look back at him and Cas has to look away. Eventually, though, Cas gets tired and he just stares at him. Dean meets his gaze and stares at him right back.

“’Sup, bitches?!” Charlie says, bouncing up to their table, Lisa in tow. “Let’s dance!” She grabs Cas by the arm and pulls him up and away from the table.

“Charlie,” Cas groans. “I don’t know whether to thank you or hate you.”

“What do you mean?” she says, already dancing around him.

“Dean and I were – nothing.”

“What?” she asks, looking over at Dean and then back to Cas.

“We were… _looking_ at each other. It probably meant nothing, I don’t –“

“What?! Well, go back there! Don’t let me stop you!”

Cas snorts. He loves Charlie for many reasons, but her enthusiasm for Cas’s crush is one of his favorites. He turns around to look for Dean, and he spots him on the dance floor. With Lisa. Dancing. Charlie sees what he’s looking at and puts her hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

“They’re just dancing, Cas. It’s okay.”

“I know,” Cas says. “Look at them, though. That’s who he should be with. Not me. We don’t make sense together. They do.”

“Cas, are you forgetting that Dean turned her down? He just wants to be friends with her. And if it wasn’t already obvious, _I_ think you two make sense together. Because I've seen the way he looks at you. No _way_ he’s not into you.”

Cas is getting a headache. “I need to sit down. Come with me?” he asks pitifully.

She sighs and links her arm with his. “Come on.”

***

The night is almost over.

Cas is sitting at their table by himself while Dean dances with Charlie and Lisa. They offered for Cas to join, but he said he was too tired. Really, he just needed a break. Being this close to Dean is doing things to his mind. He spends plenty of time with Dean at school, but something about this dance just feels…different. It feels like something more.

The three come back to the table after the song is over a few minutes later.

“Lis, come with me to the bathroom,” Charlie says, in an entirely too obvious voice. She looks at Cas and motions with her widened eyes to Dean. Cas gulps.

He can do it. It doesn’t even have to be a Thing. It can simply be two friends dancing.

He looks up at Dean, and Dean’s already looking at him.

“Dean, do you, um…do you want to dance?”

“What kind of girl do you think I am, Casanova?”

Cas rolls his eyes and boldly grabs Dean’s wrist, walking them to the dance floor. The song currently playing is a song Cas has never heard before, but he likes it. It’s fun and catchy, and it won’t make dancing awkward. They can just mess around and dance, like they've been doing all night, just without Charlie and Lisa.

That is, until the song changes. To a slow song.

Cas sighs and is about to go sit down when something grabs his hand. No, when some _one_ grabs his hand. He looks down and Dean’s hand is wrapped around his. Cas’s stomach drops, and when Dean puts his other hand on the small of Cas’s back and pulls him in, pressing him against his body, he stops breathing.

“What are you doing?” he whispers, barely audible.

Dean doesn’t say anything. He squeezes his hand tighter around Cas’s and moves for both of them. Dean's hand is bigger than Cas's, even if only slightly, so Cas's hand gets enveloped in warmth and comfort. Dean sways them from side to side and Cas just stands there, hoping Dean can’t feel his racing heartbeat. After a minute, Cas is somehow able to break out of the rigid statue his body had become, and he shifts. He thinks for a quick second then makes a decision, and he boldly rests his head on Dean's shoulder. His height makes it fit perfectly.

They stand there, slightly moving, until the song is over, a full four minutes later. When it's over, Dean lets go of Cas’s hand, leaving it cold and empty. He separates them, looks at Cas for a moment with a sort of blank stare, and walks away. Cas stands there for several seconds, unmoving.

"Oh. My. God,” Charlie whispers, walking up to him where he’s still stuck on the dance floor. “Act natural. Pretend I’m jumping up and down and screaming right now.”

“Is he,” he says, pausing to swallow around his dry throat. “Is he looking over here?”

She looks and says, “No, he’s getting a drink.”

“Come with me,” he says. He grabs her wrist and pulls her out of the gym and into the hallway with him.

“Cas!” she screams when they’re out of earshot. “I told you! I knew he liked you!”

She wraps her arms around him in an excited hug and makes him jump up and down with her.

“I think I’m in shock,” he says.

“Wait, did he kiss you?! I couldn’t see you the whole time. If he kissed you and I missed it…”

“No, don’t be ridiculous, of course he didn’t kiss me.”

“Cas, we’re on the same page here, right? Like, no _way_ was that two platonic bros slow dancing. He likes you.”

Cas’s breath hitches. “No, no, tha – that’s impossible. He can’t.”

“Says who?”

“My self-loathing.”

“Well, tell it to shove it and go out there and kiss him.”

“Charlie, even if – I can’t just go _do_ something like that.” Cas belatedly notices he’s panting. He instinctively loosens his tie and tries to make his clothes feel bigger. Have they felt this tight all night? “Charlie, I can’t – I can’t breathe,” he gasps through labored breaths.

“Cas. Castiel,” she says, more forcefully. “Listen to me. You’re fine. Take a deep breath. There you go, that’s it.”

“What do I do?” he asks her pitifully. He puts his hands on his knees and looks up at her. “I’ve never done this before. Is it supposed to feel like this?”

“This is normal, Cas. Don’t worry,” she says. She rubs his back gently and adds, “This is the good kind of anxiety. Like, the very best kind. Trust me.”

“What’s gonna happen, Charlie? I can’t take this feeling much longer. My chest feels like it’s going to explode.”

“Again, totally normal. Just go talk to him, Cas. That’s all you can do.”

He grabs her hand and squeezes it, just for some comfort.

“Okay,” he says through an exhale. “I can do this.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if it wasn't already obvious, i have no idea what i'm doing here so this probably is coming off as really aimless and like i don't have a clue how to write, which i don't. i'm close to deleting this because i'm so lost but hopefully it's at least somewhat enjoyable in the meantime.

Cas sucks in a huge breath and opens the heavy door to the gym. It slams shut behind him, and his eyes scan the room, but he doesn't see Dean. He does see Lisa, though, so he grabs Charlie’s hand and walks over to her.

“Where’s Dean?” Cas asks, trying not to sound desperate.

Lisa looks up from where she’s halfheartedly cleaning up a table, obviously too tired to put much effort in. “Hm?”

“Dean,” Charlie repeats for her. “Where is he?”

“He left,” she says simply.

Cas’s heart drops. “He left? Why did he leave?”

“’Cause the dance is basically over and he didn’t want to help clean up?” Lisa says, looking around at the quickly emptying room and motioning toward it with her hands.

“Did – did he say anything before he…”

“No? Why, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Cas says, before Charlie can get a word in. “It’s nothing. Goodnight, Lisa.”

And with that, Cas turns around and walks back out the same way he came in. He stops by the coat closet and rummages through it for a minute before pulling out his trenchcoat.

“Cas,” he hears a minute later. “Cas, wait up.”

“I just want to go home, Charlie,” he says without turning around. He leaves the hallway and walks out into the chilly night.

“Cas, this doesn’t mean anything,” he hears her say. She catches up with him and stops in front of him. “Maybe he thought you left, so he did too. You don’t know what happened.”

“I know that my life was a lot simpler before I danced with Dean Winchester. No, before I _met_ Dean Winchester. I know that much.”

She snorts, the traitor, and he glares at her. “Don’t be so dramatic, Cas.”

“I’m leaving,” he says. “I’ll see you at school. If you see Claire, tell her I left, please."

***

Cas has to get through the entirety of the rest of the weekend without talking to or seeing Dean. He feels like his chest is on fire, the anxiety and uncertainty driving him mad. He keeps reliving those moments, like the way Dean’s hand felt against his own, the warmth of it swallowing Cas's hand whole. Or the way he pressed on the small of Cas’s back and pulled Cas toward him. Or the way their bodies fit perfectly against one another, like they were made to always be that close. He can’t stop the thoughts, no matter how hard he tries, and he can’t do anything about them, no matter how much he wants to. He just has to wait, and keep waiting.

“You look like someone kicked your puppy, Clarence,” Meg says, late Sunday evening.

“Leave me alone, Meg,” he says, turning the volume up on the TV. He’s sitting in the living room with Claire and Meg, if anything just to get away from his own thoughts. So far he’s been able to avoid their questions and their stares, but Meg likes to push him.

“He’s mopey because of _Deaaaan_ ,” Claire says, the traitor.

“Is Dean that tall drink of water you were hanging all over at Homecoming?” Meg questions.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cas lies.

“That’s him. And Cas is in _loooove_ with him.”

“Dean is my friend,” Cas says, flipping through the channels with a laser focus.

“Your friend that you’re in _loooove_ with.”

“I’m not in love with him. If anything, it would be considered a crush, but…” he trails off. He squints at them. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

And with that, he gets up and goes back to his room. He doesn’t know why he thought hanging out with them would be of any use to him.

He sighs and picks up his phone. He checks the time. 8:42. Late, but not late enough to be tired enough to fall asleep. He types in his passcode and starts fiddling around on his phone, trying to find something to do that will pass the time that doesn’t include staring at his texts with Dean. He just wants it to be tomorrow morning already. He just wants to talk to Dean.

***

Cas wakes up slowly then all at once, like that John Green quote, when he realizes it’s morning and he gets to see Dean. He feels, quite honestly, like a kid on Christmas morning. His chest is starting to feel like it did on Saturday night after the dance, like it’s a ticking time bomb ready to explode. It’s quite possibly the worst and the best feeling he’s ever felt.

When he gets to school, he’s pretty sure he can actually _feel_ his heart hammering against his ribcage. He walks through the front entrance, trying to keep his breathing under control.

“Cas!” he hears, from a distinctly feminine, not-Dean voice.

He turns around and tries not to look disappointed. “Hello, Charlie.”

“Hey, you. You seen Dean yet?”

“Does it look like I’ve seen Dean yet?”

“Easy, grumpy. Save _some_ of your charm for Dean.”

“Charlie, this – this actually, physically hurts. I think I need to see a doctor.”

“It’s just the anxiety of the unknown, Cas. Once you talk to him, it’ll go away.”

“Will it? Or am I doomed to feel this way for the rest of my life?”

She puts her hand on his shoulder and he tries to let the soothing contact ground him.

Charlie gasps and her eyes widen almost comically. “Dean at twelve o’clock.” Cas’s heart starts beating even harder, if that were possible. "Aahh, what do we do? Should I leave? I should leave. Oh shit, he just saw me. Okay, I should go. We’ll talk later. Love you!” And she’s off.

Cas tries to tell himself to calm down and not run away. That's his only thought right now - run, run, run away. It would be so much easier.

“Hey, Cas,” he hears a distinctly _Dean_ voice say. His heart jumps and then suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder and Dean is there, standing in front of him, clapping him on the back like he always does.

“Dean,” he croaks. He tries to inconspicuously clear his throat.

“How are you on this fine morning?”

Cas squints at him in confusion, his eyebrows scrunching together. “Fine.”

Dean snorts. “Always the chatterbox, ain’t ya? Well. See you.” And then he leaves.

Cas watches him walk away, the pain in his chest being replaced by a confused feeling in his stomach. What was _that_?

***

“And then he just said ‘see you’ and he left,” Cas tells Charlie during first period. He’s grateful that he has his first class with her and he doesn’t have to see Dean right away.

“Ugh,” Charlie says, scoffing and rolling her eyes. “Boys like Dean are the reason I’m gay.”

“Seriously, Charlie, what do I even do here?” Cas asks, trying to keep his voice low.

“I don’t know, Cas!” she says, her red hair swishing with her body as she turns to face him. “I really don’t, I’m sorry. If you really want to talk to him, I guess you’re gonna have to bring it up yourself? This is so like him, though. To just act like nothing happened. I don’t know why but for some reason this isn’t surprising.”

Cas nervously taps his pencil against his leg. He looks down at the assignment in front of him and sighs. As if he could do schoolwork right now. For a fleeting moment, he resents Dean. He struggles enough to keep up with school, he doesn’t need this added distraction. And it’s all Dean’s fault, too. It was Dean who took Cas’s hand and danced with him. It was Dean who left. It was Dean who acted like nothing happened this morning.

When it’s time for second period, Cas braces himself for two hours without Charlie and two hours of acting like he hasn’t replayed the memory of Dean’s hand wrapped around his in his head a million times.

He walks in and sits in his regular seat next to Dean, and Dean just gives him a casual salute like he always does. They don’t talk for the rest of the period, and when it’s over, Dean just gets up and leaves, like it’s that simple. The pain in Cas’s chest is being replaced by a dull thudding sensation, where it just feels like he’s mad. And maybe he is.

***

Cas is hiding out in the library during lunch, _not_ avoiding Dean, when someone walks in. The big heavy doors open and then slam shut and Cas hears footsteps walking toward him. He closes his eyes and silently prays _not Dean not Dean not Dean_ and when he opens his eyes, it’s not Dean standing before him. It’s Lisa.

“Hey Cas,” she says. “Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he says automatically.

She smiles and sits down. “Thanks. There’s just something I need to talk to you about.”

“Okay?”

“So, at the dance on Saturday,” she says, and Cas’s heart rate immediately skyrockets. She easily could’ve seen them dancing, and he’s not prepared to have a discussion about it with her. “You said something. And I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I said something?” he questions. Okay, so maybe this isn’t about Dean.

“Yeah, you said…’why are you being so nice to me?’. You asked me that. I guess, my question now is, what did you mean? Like, why wouldn’t I be nice to you? I thought we were friends.”

“Oh,” Cas says. So it is about Dean. “Um…it’s kind of hard to explain.”

"We _are_ friends, aren't we?"

"Of course."

“Does it have anything to do with…Dean?”

 _Shit_. “Um,” he says. He picks up his pencil, just for something for his hands to do, then notices they’re shaking, so he quickly hides them in his lap.

“It’s okay, Cas. It’s okay if you like him, too.”

“Um,” he repeats. He rubs his hand across the back of his neck, unsure of what to say.

“Dean does that too, you know. He rubs his neck when he’s uncomfortable. You probably picked that up from him.”

Cas is a little confused, because her face is still open and kind, not closed off and bitter like he would expect her to be toward someone who likes the guy who turned her down.

She sighs and looks away from his face, focusing on a spot just behind his head. “I mean, you know I like him, but he doesn’t feel the same way. And that’s okay. I’ll get over it.”

Cas still hasn’t said a word. He’s just looking at her, trying to figure out what to say. It’s one thing to talk about his crush with Charlie, but confirming his feelings for Dean to someone else just seems dangerous to him. Too risky.

“You obviously don’t want to talk about it,” she says with a smile. “That’s okay. I just wanted to, I don’t know, clear the air? Or just, make sure you know that we’ll still be friends if you like him too. Even if he likes you back. I mean, it would probably suck for a little bit, but then I’d get over it and we could all hang out. We still have that Star Wars marathon to do, you –”

“Lisa,” he finally says, cutting her off. “I appreciate the gesture, but can we, um…keep this between us? _Please_ ,” he says, imploring her to see how much he wants to avoid talking about this.

She looks a little surprised, but she eventually nods. “Okay. It’ll stay between you and me.”

***

When it’s time for the last class of the day, Cas can’t help but feel that familiar ache in his chest at the thought of seeing Dean. He's pissed at him for acting like nothing happened, but at the same time, he's glad that he doesn't have to talk about feelings and stuff. He doesn't really know _what_ he wants at this point.

He walks into the classroom and Dean’s already there, in his usual seat next to Cas’s. Cas tries to ignore the butterflies in his stomach that flutter just at the sight of him, and remember he’s kind of annoyed with Dean now. Because he is, right?

“Hey,” Dean says as Cas sits down.

Cas stares at him for a long moment, trying not to angrily squint at him. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean looks back, and they stare at each other. “You look even more constipated than usual," he finally says. "You should add more fiber to your diet.”

Cas sighs, in annoyance and in bitter disappointment. So this is what they’re doing. They really are acting like nothing happened. Cas had a feeling it was going to go this way. The way Dean’s hand was gently placed over the small of Cas’s back doesn’t matter. The way their bodies fit together like two lost puzzle pieces doesn’t matter. The pain in Cas’s chest all weekend doesn’t matter. Okay, well two can play that game.

“Defecation advice from an asshole. How fitting.”


	13. Chapter 13

Neither Cas nor Dean bring up the dance again. It may as well have just not happened with how acutely they’re ignoring it. Cas wants to bring it up, ask just what the hell it meant, but if Dean’s not going to bring it up, neither will he.

Charlie isn’t very happy with this development.

“Cas! You _can’t_ be serious.”

“Shh!” Mrs. Macleod says, reprimanding her.

She rolls her eyes and continues, barely lowering her voice. “You’re just _not_ gonna talk about the fact that you _slow danced_ together?”

“Charlie, quiet down,” he whispers, looking around them to make sure no one was listening. “We’re in the library.”

“I can’t…” she says, rubbing her forehead in disapproval. "Why are you two being so dumb about this? You obviously like each other. What else is there left to figure out?”

“He danced with Lisa too, but they’re not going out. Explain that,” Cas says, raising his eyebrow, as if daring her to disagree.

She has the decency to look like she’s struggling for an answer. “Okay, maybe, but…”

“Just leave it, Charlie. I’m trying to forget about it, you should too.” This is a lie, technically. Cas isn’t forgetting about it. He _can’t_. But he’s not going to talk about it anymore. That’s obviously what Dean wants.

“Ugh,” she groans. “You guys are such…guys.”

“Thank you for your input.”

Things go back to normal after that. It’s relatively awkward for a couple days after the dance, but no one mentions it, so it fizzles out eventually and Cas finally starts to feel normal again. He has to ignore a lot of things, though. He ignores the _looks_ he gets from Charlie. He ignores the way he can tell sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, that Lisa is watching him watch Dean. But most of all, he ignores the way Dean’s eyes seem to linger on his for a second too long when they meet, as if neither one of them want to look away first.

That’s ridiculous, though. Cas may fall behind in his studies, but he’s a smart guy. And so he knows that Dean doesn’t have feelings for him. It doesn’t take a genius to see that Dean is a flirty guy. He even flirts with Charlie. So one dance, quite honestly, probably wasn’t even a blip on his radar. It meant nothing to him, just the same as all of those winks to girls in the hall mean nothing.

For some reason, though, this doesn’t make Cas feel better. He thought he would, if things would just go back to the way they were before the dance, but now that they have, he just feels worse. Now that he knows what it feels like to hold Dean’s hand, to be pressed up against him and feel his warmth, he doesn’t see how he could possibly go back to the way things were before. He absentmindedly thinks that maybe he _should’ve_ talked to Lisa about this. They’re probably feeling the same type of feelings right now. They could start a club. The Pointless-Crush-On-Dean-Winchester club.

***

“’Sup, bitches?” Charlie says, announcing herself to the table as she clatters her tray down and sits.

“You can’t use a plural word to address one person,” Cas says, poking at his fruit with his fork.

“Okay, so listen,” she says, ignoring him, and he snorts in laughter. “Things have been weird lately and I want to fix it.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, squinting at her.

“Ever since the dance. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

Cas’s heart automatically starts beating faster, and he’s grateful that no one else is around to hear her. “Charlie –“

“Relax, Cas, he’s not even here yet. I’m just saying…things have been weird. With you two and Lisa and everything. So I think we should do something together to try and make things less awkward.”

“Can we not talk about this in public? Or at all?”

“Shush,” she says. She puts two fingers over Cas’s mouth and he halfheartedly pushes her hand away. “I’m thinking a movie night. What do you think?”

“A movie night?” he repeats. “What would that entail?”

“What does it sound like, genius?”

He rolls his eyes and says, “I meant what kind of movies? Didn’t you guys want to watch Star Wars or something?”

“I was thinking a horror movie marathon since it’s almost Halloween,” she says, after taking a bite of pizza.

“You and Dean both have no table manners,” he says, eyeing her with disapproval.

“Don’t flirt with me, Casanova,” she replies, flicking a piece of fruit out of her fruit cup at him.

He dodges out of the way and that’s when Dean walks up, sitting down with his tray of food. “What’s goin’ on?” he says by way of greeting.

“Cas was flirting with me,” Charlie says in mock aghast.

“Was he now? Now that’s a sight I’d like to see,” Dean jokes.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says.

“Hey.”

“Charlie wants to have a movie night.”

“I could be down with that,” Dean says, his mouth full of food.

Cas eyes Dean with mock disdain. “How did I get stuck with you two cavepeople as friends?” Cas questions out loud. “Seriously, can’t you two eat like people?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love us, Cas,” Dean says. Cas has to duck his head at that, and Charlie looks between them and smirks. He glares at her.

“Hey, guys!” Lisa chirps as she sits down.

“Lisa, please save me from these two,” Cas says. “You’re a civilized person, aren’t you?”

“Uh oh, what are they doing?”

“Ignore Cas. What I was _trying_ to say, before I was so rudely insulted, was that I want to do something, all four of us. Lisa, you in?” Charlie says.

“Yeah, of course! What were you thinking?”

“Horror movie marathon for Halloween. Yay, nay?”

Lisa gasps. “Yay! So yay! That sounds so fun!”

Cas smiles at her. He keeps accidentally not thinking of Lisa as one of his friends, at least not like Charlie and Dean are, and he doesn’t even know why. He assumes it’s because of the whole Dean thing. But he tells himself that he really needs to start including her, because looking at her now, her pretty face lit up with a childlike excitement, he wants to see her always looking that happy. She deserves that.

“My mom works the night shift,” Cas says. “So we could do it at my house if you guys want. I have a big TV in the living room.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dean says.

“Okay so, Halloween is on Monday, so should we do it over the weekend or do it on Halloween and just accept the fact that we’ll be really tired on Tuesday?” Charlie questions the group.

“Let’s do it on Halloween,” Lisa says.

“Agreed,” Dean says.

Charlie squeals and puts her hand out in front of Cas’s face, waiting for a high five. It takes him a moment to realize what she’s doing, but he’s proud of himself for figuring it out.

***

Even though Cas has already spent a lot of time with his three friends, either at school or at the carnival or at the dance, he’s still anxious for Halloween to come. This is another new thing he’s never done before, at least with people other than Claire and Meg. He’s still nervous that he’ll get something wrong and they’ll leave him, despite the fact that this whole thing was Charlie’s idea. He tries to keep his self-talk positive, though, and say that she wouldn’t have suggested it if she didn’t want to spend time with him.

Charlie said she’d bring her horror movie collection, so Cas has the responsibility of hosting. He wants to get his house _perfect_ for their arrival, and that includes getting decorations, and snacks. A _lot_ of snacks.

“Castiel!” Amelia Novak yells up the stairs. “What on earth is all this junk in my kitchen?”

Cas winces, and he gets up from his bed and walks to the staircase. “Um, I meant to tell you. I’m having some friends over for Halloween.”

“’You meant to tell me’?” she says, squinting at him.

“It’s just three people. We’re…having a movie marathon,” Cas says, unable to stop the smile from spreading on his face as he does. He feels like a dork, but it’s a really _good_ and pure feeling.

She looks at him for a moment, assessing him. She seems to smile a little at the smile on his face. “Make sure you clean up after yourselves,” she ends up saying.

“We will.”

“I’m going to work. Have a good night, Castiel.”

Cas smiles and goes downstairs to assess his purchases once again. He’s ashamed to admit he spent a good chunk of his savings on Halloween decorations that will only be useful for one day, and snacks that will be all but gone at the end of the night, but he wants this night to be perfect, and he’ll do pretty much anything to guarantee it will be.

He gets the bags filled with the decorations and carries them into the living room. He first pulls out a few boxes of string lights, but instead of casting an off-white glow, they glow bright purple. He strings them along above the large window and behind the couch and tapes them in place. He then takes out a box of fake cobwebs and places them in various corners of the room. The final thing he got was a bunch of plastic spiders, and he places those around the room and in the cobwebs.

He looks at the clock and sees that it’s almost seven, which is when his friends should start to arrive. He hurriedly tries to do his final task, which is to get out a bunch of bowls and fill them with the various snacks he got. He fills one bowl up with pretzels, one with potato chips, and one with popcorn, and he places them all on the coffee table. He also takes the three large bags of candy he got and places them on the table as well, and he thinks that’s it.

He looks around the room and smiles. He hopes they don’t think this is lame, these decorations and all these snacks. He just wanted to have some fun with it and be a good host, and maybe make them want to do this again.

Just as Cas sits down to wait for his guests to arrive, the doorbell rings. His heart flips a little and he gets up to answer it. Waiting for him on the other side is three clowns, and he jumps in startled surprise.

“Very funny,” Cas says when they take their masks off, revealing Dean, Lisa, and Charlie laughing underneath. He places his hand over his heart where his heartbeat is now racing. How did they even know he’s afraid of clowns?

“You should probably know that Sammy can’t keep a secret, Cas,” Dean says, ruffling Cas’s hair as he pushes past him into the house.

“Good to know,” he mutters as he bats his hand away.

“Oh my God!” Charlie says. Cas turns around and smiles when he sees her looking around the room in awe. “Cas! What the hell? This is so cool!”

“Thank you,” Cas says, looking down and flushing.

“Cas, you are such a dork,” Dean says, not unkindly. Cas looks at him and Dean smiles, and they stare at each other for a long moment.

Lisa gasps as she walks in last and takes in the room. “Aww, Cas! How cute!”

“I like Halloween,” Cas says by way of explanation.

“Cas, who’s here?” Cas hears from the top of the stairs. Claire.

“Oh, Claire, my friends are here for a movie night,” Cas says. Claire and Meg walk downstairs and take in the room. Claire snorts when she sees all the trouble he went through.

“Doof,” she says. Meg smirks in agreement.

“Hey, squirt,” Dean says, walking up beside Cas and addressing Claire.

She gasps in horror. “Dean, your costume is so scary!” she says, looking him up and down before hiding her face in Meg’s shoulder. Dean fake laughs in response.

“Claire, can you two go to her house? We’ll be loud and stuff.”

“Are you kicking us out, Clarence?” Meg asks, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Clarence?” Dean questions.

Cas is about to tell him he still doesn’t know why she calls him that, but before he can, Claire rolls her eyes and says, “We were just leaving anyway.”

“Have fun, you two,” Meg says, winking at Cas.

“Is she into you?” Dean says, looking back at Meg once the door is closed. He has a strange expression on his face, but before Cas can analyze it, it’s gone.

“She likes to pretend she is,” he says. “I suspect her real affection lies with Claire.” After a moment, Cas has a thought. “Oh wait. It’s Halloween.”

“Your insight is, as always, inspiring,” Dean says.

“What I _meant_ , smart ass, was there will be trick or treaters. Should I turn the light off so they don’t ring the bell?”

“Up to you. How much leftover candy do you want? You got like what, three bags?”

“I’ll put one outside in a bowl, that way no one will ring the bell and we won’t have to keep getting up.”

Once Cas has put the candy outside, he walks back into the living room and sees his three friends sitting in various positions, all snacking to their heart’s content. Cas smiles, a small, private thing, and walks the rest of the way in.

“So,” he says. “What are we going to watch first?”

“My vote is for the classic Halloween,” Charlie says, after she pops a few potato chips in her mouth. “The Michael Myers movie. We have to watch it at some point tonight, it’s just a matter of when.”

“I love that movie,” Cas says, sitting down on the couch.

“You’ve actually seen it?” Dean says, plopping down next to him.

“I’ve seen most horror movies. It’s other movies I don’t watch.”

“That’s such a _you_ thing to say. The little goth boy and his horror movies.”

“Don’t be mean, Dean,” Lisa says. She’s sitting on the floor next to Charlie, and they’re both pilfering through the bags of candy sitting on the coffee table.

Cas has an idea then and he gets up from the couch and goes to the hall closet, taking out three big, soft blankets. He carries them out and spreads two out on the floor for Charlie and Lisa to lay on and places one on the couch next to Dean. He tosses some pillows from the couch onto the floor as well.

Charlie looks up at him from her pile of candy wrappers that she’s slowly but surely building and smiles, her cheeks rosy and red like her hair. He smiles back at her and he feels a huge wave of _content_ sweep over him. And to think, if this were a couple months ago, he’d be spending Halloween alone in his room with a bag of candy and a couple movies.

Cas pushes down his emotions and turns the lamp in the room off, so the only light in the room is from the purple string lights and the TV screen.

“Yesss!” Charlie shouts, high fiving Lisa. “I can’t tell you how much I’m loving this setup, Cas. This is gonna be so much fun.”

Cas sits down next to Dean on the couch and boldly sits a little closer than necessary. He can always blame the lack of light if Dean questions him, he figures.

They watch Halloween first, which everyone in the group has seen so it mostly consists of watching and making their own commentary, which has each of them clutching their stomachs and wiping their eyes from laughing so hard.

“I’m just saying, Michael Myers is kinda hot,” Lisa says, after the scene where his mask is ripped off and you see a glimpse of his face.

“That’s such a straight person thing to say,” Charlie retorts.

They decide to go a little bolder and watch something actually pretty scary next. They go with The Conjuring, which up until now Cas had been too afraid to watch. He gave a pretty big fight and didn’t want to watch it, but was ultimately outvoted. He almost starts crying during it because he’s so scared. It also consists of a lot of moments where he tries not to latch onto Dean in fear. At some point, one of them shifts, Cas can’t be sure who, and their arms end up pressed against each other. Dean doesn’t do anything to move, so Cas doesn’t either. He can feel the warmth of him along his whole arm, and he’s pretty sure he’s gone rigid, not daring to move in case it’ll make Dean move.

He eventually tries to relax his arm, if anything just because it’s uncomfortable to be so stiff. Dean still doesn’t move. Cas looks at him out of the corner of his eye and his eyes are focused on the screen.

After that, they watch Annabelle, then The Babadook. They’re on the scene where the woman finds the book back on her front porch when Cas feels Dean shift. He doesn’t do anything, just continues watching, until he feels something on his shoulder. He turns his head and Dean’s sleeping face is right in front of him, his head resting on Cas’s shoulder. Cas’s heart jumps into his throat and he tries with everything in his power not to move for fear of Dean waking up. He almost wants to call out to Charlie, just to make sure this is a real thing that’s actually happening, but he doesn’t. Instead, he relaxes his body and sinks a little further down so Dean’s head will fit more naturally on him. He smiles to himself and continues to watch the movie.

***

The first thing Cas is aware of when he wakes up is his neck is stiff. The second thing is that he can feel the soft, even breaths of someone other than himself against his skin. He opens his eyes and moves his head, and realizes that Dean is still sleeping on him, and Cas had fallen asleep with his head resting against Dean’s. He closes his eyes again for a brief moment, not wanting to move. He can smell the citrus in Dean's shampoo from this close up, and it's almost intoxicating.

He looks at the TV and it’s on the menu screen for The Babadook, and he sees Charlie and Lisa asleep on the floor in front of him. He doesn’t want to wake them up, but he’s not sure if they intended to stay the night or not.

He clears his throat and awkwardly says, “guys?” His voice sounds even more gravelly than usual, rough from sleep. “Guys?” he says, a little louder.

Charlie grumbles and opens her eyes. “Mmm,” she groans. “Food coma.”

“I wasn’t sure if you guys intended to fall asleep or not,” Cas says.

“We brought a change of clothes for school tomorrow,” she says. “Go back to sleep.”

“Wait, Charlie.”

“What?” she says, not opening her eyes.

“Look,” he whispers, not wanting to wake Dean but being unable to stop himself from making sure this is real.

She opens her eyes and gingerly lifts her head. Once she sees, she smirks and then her head falls again. “Nice going, Casanova.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment if you want to letting me know what kind of stuff you want to see in this story. I have a general idea of where it's going but I'm always open to feedback! As always thank you so much for reading :)


	14. Chapter 14

Cas isn’t really sure how it happens, but somehow, texting Dean becomes a regular occurrence. It tends to read like one long conversation, stopping and starting in random places but always continuing. They could have one conversation talking about the merits of frozen versus homemade apple pie (Cas thinks there’s no difference, and he’s pretty sure Dean almost blocked his number right then and there) and an hour later find themselves discussing why Cas first started wearing eyeliner (he thought it looked pretty on girls and didn’t see the reason boys weren’t supposed to wear it).

***

**Dean, what was our homework in Physics? I forgot to write it down.**

_pg 178 #1-5_

**Thank you.**

_np. what are you up to_

**I’m doing homework. What are you doing?**

_watching tv with sammy_

**That sounds nice. What are you watching?**

_some dorky documentary. i’m falling aslee…zzzzzzzzz_

**Documentaries are not boring Dean.**

_it’s about bees cas. who cares why bees do what they do? they’re just bees._

**I love bees.**

_of course you do_

**This homework is hard. Did you finish it?**

_yeah. do u need help?_

**How?**

_i can take pics of mine if u want_

**No I don’t want to cheat. I’ll figure it out, I guess.**

_suit yourself. lmk if u change ur mind_

**lmk?**

_let me know…_

**Oh.**

_sometimes i can’t tell if ur for real or not_

**I’m sorry I didn’t know what your acronym meant. I’m relatively new to texting.**

_oh yeah i forgot. sammy’s yelling at me because i’m not paying attention to the bees._

**Don’t let me keep you. I need to finish my homework anyway.**

_see u tomorrow_

**Goodnight, Dean. :)**

***

_how'd u do on that history test you were studying for?_

**I got a B- thanks to you. Thank you for helping me study. o:) < that's you as an angel**

_congrats nerd._

**I still don't see how I'm the nerd when you're the smart one. Isn't nerd usually a term to make fun of someone who is smart? Never mind the fact that being smart is something that should be celebrated, but I digress.**

_whatever…dork_

***

**How are you, Dean?**

_i’m good. just making dinner for me and sammy. what are you up to?_

**For just the two of you? Are your parents not home?**

_no it’s just us_

**Oh. I’m sorry.**

_don’t worry about it. what are u doing?_

**Just trying to finish up my reading for English.**

_oh shit, how far are we supposed to be???_

**Up to chapter 5 I believe.**

_dammit_

***

**How important is lipstick to you, Dean?**

_um.. not very_

**Monkeys are such intelligent creatures, Dean. I don’t think it’s necessary to test cosmetics on them. What do you think?**

_whatever u say cas_

**I could never wear makeup that was tested on an animal. It would feel morally wrong to me.**

_ur a good egg, cas._

***

_what’s the word cas_

**It’s a shortened version of my name?**

_ha ha. ur so funny._

**I wasn’t aware I made a joke.**

_dude. just.. what’s up_

**Nothing. I’m just watching Breaking Bad. I started it the other day and it’s quite enthralling. How are you, Dean?**

_i’m bored. i want some pie._

**I have some pie in my kitchen. I’d be happy to share it with you.**

_what kind??_

**Apple. Do you want me to bring you a slice at school tomorrow?**

_i think i love you cas_

**I’m very fond of you too, Dean. :)**

***

_i hate the cold, man. you know i used to live in florida? i miss the heat_

**You lived in Florida? I didn’t know that. Did you like it?**

_hell yeah. lived in orlando right by disney world. i took sammy all the time_

**That’s nice. I have to disagree about your love of the heat though. I like the cold. You can always** **layer your clothes if you’re cold but when it’s hot you just get…well, hot.**

_of course the resident vampire doesn’t like the sun_

**I’m hardly a vampire. I’m tanner than you. Have you lived in a lot of places?**

_yeah i guess. my dad has to move around a lot for work_

**Do you like moving around?**

_it doesn’t matter what i think about it. it’s just the way it is._

**Well your feelings still matter, Dean.**

_can we drop it?_

**Okay. Sorry.**

***

**Dean, have you watched Parks and Recreation?**

_no_

**It’s a very good show. I’d highly recommend it. It has a very strong message of family running deeper than blood, meaning you get to choose who your family is. It's very moving.**

_i don’t watch a lot of tv. i’m more into movies._

**I’m the opposite, I watch TV but no movies. Well, other than horror films. Horror films now remind me of you guys, though. I would be honored to host another “movie night”. :) What are some of your favorite movies?**

_ummmm. star wars, harry potter, lord of the rings_

**Those are all series of movies, correct?**

_yes. you get a point for knowing that_

**What’s one movie you like that I could watch right now?**

_hmm.. die hard_

**Okay. If I watch Die Hard, will you watch the pilot of Parks and Recreation? It’s on Netflix.**

_fine. if it sucks i’m blaming you_

**It certainly will not “suck” Dean.**

_we should have another movie night tho. it was fun._

**I agree. Let’s talk with Lisa and Charlie and set one up. I haven’t seen any of your favorite series yet.**

***

_dude that english test was hard as shit. who cares why the author made the curtains blue? they were just blue, there’s no other reason._

**I know. Shake it off, Dean.**

_ok taylor swift_

**The only thing you just did is confirm you listen to Taylor Swift.**

_shut up no i don’t_

**:)**

***

**What are your Thanksgiving plans, Dean?**

_don’t really have any. sammy and i will probably just order a pizza. they’ll still be open right?_

**Your parents won’t be cooking?**

_no. don’t worry about it._

**Do you want to come to my house? It’s just me, my mom, and Claire. And maybe Meg. But you and your family are more than welcome to join us. We usually make a lot of extra food.**

_i can’t ask u for that. we’ll be fine._

**Please, Dean? I really want you to.**

_cas.. are u serious?_

**Of course.**

_if ur sure_

**I’m sure.**


	15. Chapter 15

Cas wouldn’t exactly use the word “shy” to describe Dean. More like…brash. Or maybe just confident. Either way, Dean is in no way a nervous or hesitant guy. So to see him standing at Cas’s locker one morning, his head bowed to the floor, his hands in his pockets, and his feet kicking at imaginary rocks on the linoleum, well, it’s quite a sight to see.

“Dean?” Cas says as he walks up to him.

Dean’s head snaps up at Cas’s voice and then his eyes hit the floor again. “Hey,” Dean says, bringing one of his hands up to rub at the back of his neck.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just, uh…I wanted to make sure, you know, you were serious about the whole…Thanksgiving thing.” Dean may as well have asked the floor with how resolutely he’s ignoring Cas’s eyeline.

“Of course I was serious, Dean. You are more than welcome to join us. You and your brother and anyone else you want to invite.”

Dean looks up at that and he has an unreadable expression on his face. “Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? Because I want you to. I don’t want you to be alone on the holiday.”

“But –“

“Just say yes, Dean. Please?”

Dean sighs and brings his hand back up to the back of his neck. “I mean, if you’re really sure.”

“Of course.”

He looks up at Cas then and there’s gratitude written all over his face. “Thanks, Cas.”

“It’s my pleasure. I’ll just have to make sure we make more than one pie this year.”

Dean throws his head back at that and lets out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, you better.”

***

“Mom?” Cas asks, knocking on Amelia’s open door and standing in the doorway.

“Hm?” she says, distractedly looking at something on her laptop.

“I invited someone to join us for Thanksgiving,” he says in a small voice. He never actually asked her for permission, he just kind of assumed it would be okay. “I figured if Claire can invite Meg I can invite Dean,” he tries to explain.

“That’s okay,” she says, alleviating his concern. “Who’s Dean?”

“He was a new student a couple months ago and I was assigned to be his buddy. We’ve become pretty good friends, I think.”

The corner of her mouth turns up in a small smirk. “You think?”

“Well, I, um, I’d like to say we are,” he mutters, looking at the floor. “But he and his little brother, I think they were going to spend Thanksgiving by themselves eating pizza. I don’t know where his parents would be, I’m assuming they would be working or something. But I didn’t want them to be alone, so I thought that they could join us.”

“That’s fine, Castiel. I’m looking forward to meeting your friend. Was he here for Halloween?”

“Yeah, him and Charlie and Lisa. They’re all my friends now,” he says, a dorky smile spreading wide on his face.

She smiles at him, and it reminds him of the way Dr. Milton looked at him when he first told her about Dean, like she’s proud of him or something for just making a friend. It makes him feel slightly pathetic.

“Isn’t Dean the name of the boy who’s been tutoring you in math?” she asks, squinting at him in question.

“Yeah. Oh,” Cas says distractedly, having a thought. “We’ll need more than one pie. Dean loves pie. It has to be homemade, though, he doesn’t like frozen pie.” One of the many things Cas has learned about Dean through their texting escapades.

“I’m going to be cooking dinner, Castiel, I won’t have time to make a homemade pie,” she says, looking at him in disapproval.

“Oh. I guess I can make it then?” he says, and it comes out like a question.

“You could always get one from a bakery if you really don’t want a frozen one.”

Cas thinks about it for a minute, chewing on his bottom lip. He kind of wants to make one from scratch just to see the look on Dean’s face when he tells him.

“No,” he says determinedly. “I’ll make it.”

***

The day of Thanksgiving comes, and Cas wakes up in an excellent mood. He slept in, so he feels like he got enough sleep, and he doesn’t even feel the desire to stay in bed, like he thought he would on a day with no school. He feels ready to get up and start the day, a day that’s sure to be long but hopefully as good as he’s built it up to be in his head. He checks his phone before he gets up and sees a text from Dean. He smiles as reads it.

_sammy’s excited to hang out with u today. no idea why._

**Because I’m a very exciting person to be around.**

Cas gets up and changes out of his pajamas, something he rarely does if he doesn’t have to go somewhere. It feels right today, though. And he’s not going to question doing things out of his normal depressive routine. He puts on a black button down that’s slightly fancier than his normal black shirt, and plain black jeans. He takes his time putting on his eyeliner and fixing his hair, feeling somewhat ridiculous but not really caring.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Amelia says as he walks into the kitchen. She’s sitting at the table drinking coffee and she’s smiling at him over the newspaper she’s reading.

“I think today might be a good day. I hope so, anyway,” he says shyly.

“I’m going to start dinner soon. Are you still planning on making a pie for Dean?”

He blushes and nods. She doesn’t comment on it, though, a fact he’s grateful for. She just smiles at him, even if it may be a little knowingly.

Cas fixes himself a cup of coffee and sits down at the table. He opens his laptop that he brought downstairs with him and gets to work looking for a good recipe. He thinks he’s going to go with an apple pie because he’s pretty sure it’s Dean’s favorite, and Amelia already got a classic pumpkin pie from the bakery up the street.

Amelia starts cooking soon after, and Cas gets to work on the pie. They have to work around each other, but the room is just about big enough for the two of them. Cas stays in one spot in the corner of the kitchen, and he gets started on the dough. He gets a little confused by the recipe’s instructions, but he thinks he gets through it okay. He’s just finished rolling it out and starting to peel and chop up the apples when he gets a text.

_what time should we come? it’s just me and sammy btw. don’t know if i said that before._

**We usually start eating around 4.**

_thanks. and thanks for, you know.. inviting us._

**Thank you for coming. :)**

Cas smiles down at his phone, then tries to focus back on the task at hand, and he finishes preparing the pie about an hour later. He sets it aside in the fridge, deciding not to bake it just yet, instead thinking it’ll be better to bake it after they eat dinner and then the scent of it can waft throughout the house.

***

The doorbell rings at 3:41. Not that Cas is paying attention or anything. He takes a deep breath in, trying to relax, and opens the door. Dean is standing on the other side, his little brother slightly behind him, and they smile at each other when their eyes meet.

“Hey,” Cas says. He’s pretty sure there’s a dumb grin on his face.

“Hi,” Dean replies. They’re still staring at each other.

“Hi, Cas,” Sam says, breaking him out of his trance.

“Oh, um,” Cas says, blushing and clearing his throat. “Hello, Sam. It’s nice to see you. Both of you.” He moves aside and opens the door wider to let them in. He inconspicuously looks at Dean while he takes his jacket off, and notes with pleasure that Dean slightly dressed up as well, in his own dark button down. They’re almost matching.

“Hey, Dean. Hi, you’re Sam, right? I’m Claire, Cas’s sister. I think we have a couple classes together. We’ve never officially met though,” Claire says.

“Yeah, hey, it’s nice to meet you,” Sam says, shaking her hand.

“Hey, Dean-o. Samuel,” Meg says from her spot next to Claire.

“Meg. Claire,” Dean says. “It smells great in here.”

“Thank you,” Amelia says from behind them, walking in from the kitchen. “So you’re Dean, I presume?” she says, in an entirely too obvious voice and with an entirely too knowing smile.

Cas tries not to blush, keeping his eyes down.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean says. He rubs his hands on his pants and puts one out for her to shake. “Dean Winchester. This is my brother, Sammy.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Castiel has told me a lot about you.”

“Has he now?”

“No,” Cas mutters.

“Thank you for helping Castiel out with his schoolwork, I know that’s been a big relief for him.”

“Oh,” Dean says, looking a little bashful. “Uh, it’s no problem.”

“Make yourselves at home, please,” she says, wiping her forehead with the dishtowel in her hand. “Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Novak,” Dean says. Cas looks at him fondly, completely enamored with the polite, almost nervous way he’s acting.

“Please, call me Amelia.”

While they’re all sitting in the living room watching the parade on TV waiting for dinner, Cas has a thought. Claire and Meg. They’re irritating at the best of times, and completely incorrigible at the worst. They have a clear opportunity to mess with him at dinner tonight, what with Dean being here and everything, and they both seem to have permanent smirks on their face whenever he makes eye contact with them. So when Amelia calls everyone into the kitchen, he pulls them both behind by their arms and into the hallway.

“If you two don’t behave tonight…”

“Now what ever could you mean by that, Clarence?” Meg drawls.

“I’m serious. This dinner is really important to me, okay? Just…please. Please don’t make any jokes or comments or anything about me and Dean. Please.”

“Relax, Cas,” Claire says. She seems to see the almost desperate plea in his words. “We’ll be good. Right, Meg?”

“Of course,” Meg says with a wink.

***

“So, Dean. Castiel tells me you’re practically a genius when it comes to math,” Amelia says after everyone has started eating.

Cas blushes and pushes his food around his plate with his fork. “Mom.”

“A genius, huh?” Dean says, looking over at Cas from where he’s sitting right next to him and smirking. “I don’t know about that.”

“I never used the word genius,” Cas mutters.

“I like math,” Dean says, shrugging. “It makes sense to me in a way that like, English literature doesn’t, you know? It’s really black and white.”

“That makes sense,” she says. “I’m glad you have a friend who doesn’t slack on their schoolwork, Castiel. Maybe he can motivate you to do the same.”

“Cas doesn’t slack,” Dean says quickly, almost automatically. “I mean, senior year is hard on everyone, you know?”

Cas blinks and looks at him, feeling like his heart is growing in size. “Thank you, Dean,” he says in a small voice. He looks at his mom and her eyebrow is raised, and she looks between them for a moment before going back to her food. He can practically _hear_ Meg smirking. He ignores her.

“Dean, Sam, do you mind if I ask – why aren’t your parents cooking for you two tonight?”

“Mom,” he says, giving her a hard look.

“No, it’s, uh, it’s okay. My parents are divorced, it’s just us and our dad. And he’s working tonight.”

Her face twists in sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shrugs and continues eating.

Cas didn’t know Dean’s parents were divorced, but it makes sense. He always seems to be doing something to take care of Sam, kind of like a parent would. It’s unsurprising that his dad isn’t around a lot. It’s unsurprising, but it still hurts to hear it. Cas has the strange urge to put his hand on Dean’s knee or something where it’s resting next to his own, to squeeze it in comfort, but he restrains himself.

“Why don’t we all say something we’re thankful for?” Amelia suggests. “I’ll go first. I’m thankful that my kids seem so happy today and that they have such great friends.” Everyone teases her halfheartedly for being so cheesy. “It’s cliché, I know, but I mean it.”

“I’m thankful that you invited us tonight,” Sam says, looking surprisingly serious. “Seriously. You guys don’t know how much this means to us.”

“Same here,” Dean says gruffly, looking down at his plate. “Thank you.”

“I’m thankful for Claire and food,” Meg says, after eating a bite of stuffing.

“I’m thankful for makeup,” Claire says succinctly. “And Meg.” They giggle at each other.

“I’m thankful for the friends I made this year,” Cas says. “Dean, Charlie, and Lisa. They’ve changed my life.”

Dean looks at him and they stare at each other for a long moment before someone, Cas doesn’t know or care who, clears their throat.

After dinner, everyone goes out into the living room and Cas hears them put on the movie Elf. He smiles to himself, feeling stuffed and content, and pulls his pie out of the fridge and puts it in the oven to bake. When he walks back into the living room, Dean looks up at him and smiles, a small, private thing that Cas tries to savor.

“What’s that smell?” Dean asks a little while later, sniffing the air like a dog. They’re sitting on the couch together while everyone else is lounging around on the floor. If they’re sitting a little too close to each other, well, no one needs to know. “Is that…”

“I may or may not be baking a pie,” Cas says quietly.

Dean stares at him for a long moment, his gaze intense. “You – you made a pie?”

“Yes?”

“Is it frozen?”

“Nope. Made from scratch. Just for you,” he teases.

“Holy shit.”

“You’re welcome.”

“No, _holy shit_ , Cas. You…you’re…you’re awesome.”

“It was my way of saying thank you for, um…for tutoring me. And everything,” he mutters.

“Not that I’m not enjoying your declarations of love for each other,” Meg says from the floor in front of them, causing Cas’s heart to jump into his throat, “but some of us are trying to watch the movie.”

“Shut up, Meg,” Dean mumbles. They don’t speak for the rest of the movie.

When the oven timer goes off, Cas gets up and pulls the pie out and his heart breaks a little. It looks burnt. He doesn’t understand why, because he followed the directions as best he could. He’s too busy trying not to freak out to hear someone walking up behind him.

“Smells amazing, Cas,” Dean says.

Cas jumps a little. “Oh. Hello, Dean. It’s, um…it’s burnt.”

Dean looks at it and waves his hand. “Nah. Still looks great. Seriously, Cas, I can’t believe you did this. I’m thankful for you right now.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, trying not to blush. “There’s also a pumpkin pie in the fridge if you’d rather have that.”

“Do I have to share this?” Dean asks, gesturing to the apple pie.

“No, I made it for you. You can have as much as you want. I’m not sure how good it will be, though. So if you don’t like it, don’t feel obligated to eat it.”

“You’re kidding, right? Cas, I don’t think it’s possible to make me a pie I won’t eat.”

“We’ll see.”

***

Dean eats the whole thing.

“I’m never moving again,” he says when he’s done. “I’m serious. You might have to start charging me rent because I think I’m moving in.”

“You’re amazing, Dean. I’m in awe of your superpowers,” Claire says, shaking her head at him.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Cas mutters, secretly preening.

“We’ll still send you home with some leftovers, though,” Amelia says. “I want you boys eating more than just pizza while your father is at work.”

“Mom,” Cas says. “Leave them alone.”

“No, it’s okay, Cas. We do need to eat better,” Sam says. “We’d be honored to take some leftovers.”

Meg and Claire go upstairs after that, saying goodbye to Dean and Sam, who are about to leave. Amelia goes into the kitchen to pack up some leftovers and Sam follows her, leaving just Cas and Dean standing in the hall while Dean puts his coat on.

“Thanks again, Cas, for, you know…everything. This is probably the best Thanksgiving we’ve ever had.” Cas automatically starts to say something to downplay it, but Dean cuts him off. “I’m serious. Thank you,” he says, looking Cas right in the eyes.

“You’re welcome, Dean,” he says in a soft voice. “I’m glad you had a good day. I did as well.”

They stare at each other for a long moment and Dean seems to be debating something in his head. He pauses, steps forward into Cas’s personal space, and spreads his arms, wrapping Cas in a hug. Cas’s stomach nearly falls out of his ass. It’s over before it begins, though, so he has no time to react and no time to bring his arms up as well.

“Goodnight, buddy,” Dean says, stepping back toward the door and out into the cool night.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

Sam walks into the hallway then carrying a small bag full of tupperware. “Hey, Cas,” he says.

“Hi,” Cas replies, still a little dazed.

“It was cool gettin’ to hang out with you today. I see you and Dean are both as gone on each other as ever,” he says.

“What?” Cas says, his stomach dropping. “I don't –“

“Hey, it's cool, man. It's nice to see him like this.”

“Sammy, let’s go!” Dean yells from outside.

“I'm sure I’ll be seeing you again soon,” Sam says with a knowing smirk. “Anyway. Thanks again for inviting us, Cas. I don’t know if Dean said it but you don’t know how much this night meant to us.”

“Um,” he says. “It was my pleasure.”

“Night, Cas.”

“Goodnight.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for self-harm

November is good. December…is not.

Cas should’ve expected this. Not just because of the whole typical seasonal depression thing, which is definitely a factor, but because things were going too well. He was feeling too happy. He was studying more, and his grades were improving, and he was spending more time with his friends and isolating himself less. It was only natural that he hit a wall.

There wasn’t a particular moment where he realized he was slipping; it happened gradually. Skipping school to stay in bed one day, not doing his homework another day, ignoring Charlie’s text the next day. Just little things, but when added together, they created a problem.

He’s oversleeping, sleeping almost fourteen hours most nights, and he almost stops eating altogether. Amelia notices and gets on his case about it. They have a fight where he tries to explain to her that he can’t _help_ it. He can barely get out of bed, let alone eat three healthy meals a day. He’s lucky if he can even force down something like a bowl of cereal for dinner. She doesn’t get it, though, and just keeps telling him to “try”. As if he’s not already trying. He’s trying so hard it _hurts_ , and she can’t even tell. That’s what’s so great about depression. Even opening your eyes takes effort. Doing anything other than staring at the wall feels as difficult as competing in the Olympics.

He wakes up one morning and he can already tell it’s going to be a long day. He oversleeps and doesn’t have the energy to fix his hair or put on makeup, he leaves his homework on his desk, and he forgets his trenchcoat on an especially cold day. And that’s all before first period.

When he gets to school, he already feels like shit and the day’s barely begun. He wants to see Dean, because he’s selfish and has no self-control, so he looks around the courtyard and scans the crowd for him. He finally spots him sitting on a bench, and he’s currently talking animatedly with Lisa. The big green monster in Cas’s stomach snarls, even though he knows there’s nothing going on between them. Dean turned her down, for whatever reason, but they’re obviously still enough to make him jealous.

Lisa must see him standing there, because she waves and motions for him to come over. He sighs and starts warily walking over to them, feeling uncomfortable the whole way.

“Hey, Cas. You okay?” Dean says as he approaches them.

“Why do you ask?”

“You look…different.”

They both stare at him for a moment before Lisa gasps and says, “I know what it is! He’s not wearing makeup!”

“I overslept. Please don’t make fun of me,” he says, ducking his head in embarrassment.

“Why would we make fun of you?” she asks, putting her hand gently on his forearm. He’s not in the mood to be coddled so he rips his arm out of her grip and her face falls, making him feel even shittier.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sighing. “I’m having a very trying morning.” Cas looks over at Dean and he’s just…looking at him. “Stop staring at me, Dean. I still have the same face.”

Dean clears his throat and looks away, and if Cas didn’t know any better, he’d say he’s blushing. “I know. You just look different.”

The bell rings and Lisa says, looking slightly uncomfortable, “We should go. Don’t want to be late.”

***

The worst part of the month of December is probably finals. Cas can’t make himself study even if his life depended on it, which he’s managed to convince himself that it kind of does. If he fails all of his finals, he probably won’t graduate. If he doesn’t graduate, he’s doomed to be stuck in his room in his mom’s house for the rest of his life.

“You look like shit,” Cas’s favorite voice says from above him.

“Thank you,” he deadpans.

Dean pulls out the heavy chair at Cas’s table and sits down across from him. They’re in the library, because Cas thought maybe, just _maybe_ , he could find motivation to study. It’s not going very well, though.

“Seriously, Cas, you’re startin’ to worry me, man. You don’t look good.”

“Everyone looks like shit during finals week, Dean,” Cas says, trying to deflect the attention off of himself. Also trying not to be offended.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Would you tell me if something was wrong?”

Cas’s chest flutters of its own volition at Dean’s concern. “Of course,” he lies.

He sighs. “Alright then. You want some help studying?”

Cas is about to say no, on autopilot, but he decides to give in. It’s not like he has much to lose by saying yes. “If you want,” he mutters.

Dean looks a little surprised that Cas agreed, but he also looks relieved. “Great. What do you have today?”

“History and Calculus.” Dean gives a sympathetic wince and Cas nods. “I know.”

“Well we’ve been working on Calc together for weeks now. You should be okay for that one, right?”

Cas absentmindedly taps his pencil on the table. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Let’s study for History then. That way you know a little bit about both instead of a lot about one. Okay?”

Cas blinks and looks at Dean, and he feels himself smiling with just his eyes. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

***

Cas trudges through his bedroom door after school and slams it shut. He’s so ready to be done with school. He’s looking forward to two whole weeks that he can spend glued to his bed. Only one day and two exams and then he’s done.

“Castiel?” he hears Amelia say from the hall, right after he’s faceplanted on his bed. He buries his face further into his pillow and ignores her. She knocks on the door a minute later and comes in without waiting for him to answer. “I know you’re awake, Castiel. How did your finals go today?”

“Fine,” he mutters, his voice muffled from his pillow.

“Do you know your grades yet?”

“No.”

He hears her sigh. “What’s gotten into you, lately? Are you having another episode? Do I need to call Dr. Moseley?”

He pushes himself up with his arms and turns his body around so he can see her. “I’m not having an _episode_. I’m fine. Everyone struggles during finals week,” he says, using the same excuse he used with Dean earlier.

“Come downstairs and eat something, then, will you?”

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m not hungry.”

“I know you’re not, but I want you to try.”

“I’ll eat later,” he says, for probably the thousandth time. Later doesn’t usually come, though.

She stares at him for a long moment before she seems to decide something. “I think I will call Dr. Moseley. You don’t look well, Castiel. You look pale and you’re getting thinner.”

“I’m _fine_. You don’t need to call my fucking doctor.”

“Hey,” she says, a clear warning in her voice. “Don’t talk to me like that. It doesn’t matter how low you’re feeling, I’m still your mother.”

He clenches his jaw and looks away.

“When is your next appointment?” she asks.

“I don’t know.”

“Castiel, please stop acting like a child,” she says, her voice still hard. “When is your appointment?”

“I. Don’t. Know. I’d have to look at the card.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head. She looks like she has a thought, and then she looks at him suddenly. “Have you been taking your medication?”

His heart jumps into his throat. “Y-yeah,” he says, accidentally stammering. Damn it.

She stands up and walks over to his nightstand, pulling open the drawer.

“What are you –“

She pulls out his pill bottle and examines it closely. She checks the date on the label and then takes off the lid, pouring the remaining pills into her hand and counting them.

“You stopped taking these almost a week ago,” she says in a low voice.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Castiel,” she says, her voice still low. “Show me your arm.”

His stomach drops to the floor, and he resolutely ignores her, looking down at his lap and refusing to meet her hard gaze.

“Show me,” she repeats.

“No,” he murmurs.

She steps toward him and grabs his arm, forcefully but still with a gentle touch, which in the back of his mind he appreciates. She pulls the sleeve of his left arm up and nearly jumps when she sees.

There are horizontal red lines running up and down the entire length of his forearm, from the bottom of his hand to his elbow.

“No,” she whispers, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. “Castiel…”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Why – I thought we were past this,” she says, her voice soft, like she can’t believe what she’s seeing.

“I just…had a bad day,” he says in a low voice. “It was only once.”

“Only once?” she repeats incredulously. “Look at your arm, Castiel! _This_ was only once?”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry.” He feels a tear slip down his face and drop onto his still-exposed arm. She gently pulls his sleeve back down.

“We have to talk to your doctor,” she says. “This can’t continue. Where is your card?”

“In my wallet.” He pulls it out of his pocket and gets the card out. “It’s on Friday,” he says once he sees.

“I’ll be going with you,” she says. She picks the pill bottle up again and pours one onto her hand. She gives it to him and says, “I want you taking these until she says otherwise. I’m serious, Castiel. We…we cannot afford to do this again.”

He doesn’t say anything, just takes the proffered pill and swallows it dry. He doesn’t have any fight left in him, and he just wants to go to bed now.

She looks at him for a long moment. “I’m sorry, Castiel.”

He looks up at her then. “For what?”

“I don’t know,” she says honestly. “I’m sorry that this is happening again.”

Cas sniffs but doesn’t say anything, so she gently places her hand on his then gets up and leaves, closing the door behind her.

Cas lays back down and lets himself cry for a few minutes out of sheer frustration. He doesn’t know how he found himself back here. He really thought he’d been doing better lately, but now…he kind of just wants to go to sleep and never wake up. He’s so _tired_.

He wants Dean. He needs to talk to him, he needs to hear his voice. But he can’t. He can’t burden Dean with this stuff. Dean is so good, so bright and warm, like a breath of fresh air on a clear summer day, and Cas is a hurricane. He’ll only ruin him.

But Cas never said he was strong.

**Dean, are you busy?**

_nope, what’s up?_

**Can I call you?**

_sure_

He takes a deep breath and presses ‘call’. He hates himself for doing this, and he lifts his sleeve up and digs his fingernail into one of the cuts on his arm as punishment. It rings once before Dean picks up.

“Hey, Cas.”

Cas is almost ashamed to admit how immediate his relief is. It’s like he was drowning and Dean threw him a lifesaver. No, Dean _was_ the lifesaver. “Dean,” he breathes, trying to stay calm.

“Cas, what’s wrong?”

And of course he can tell. Dean is always so in tune with Cas, can always tell what he’s thinking. Cas sniffs but says nothing.

“Cas, are you crying?” Dean asks, his voice more urgent.

“I – I just,” he says, cutting himself off with a sigh. “I’m fine, I just wanted to…” he trails off.

“Wanted to what? What’s wrong?”

“I have clinical depression, Dean.”

And that…is not what he meant to say. Dean is silent for a while and Cas sits there with his heart in his throat, waiting for his reaction.

“Cas, I don’t – I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Cas says. “Can we just…can we just sit here for a while?”

Dean lets out a small breath. “Yeah, of course, buddy.”

Cas lays down on his right side and sets the phone down on the left side of his face. He lays there and he breathes and he listens to Dean breathe, and later, when he wakes up to the sound of Dean snoring, he smiles.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for referenced self-harm

_what are you doing?_

**Staring at the wall.**

_sounds fun. want to hang out?_

**What did you have in mind?**

_well.. don’t make a big deal out of it but i got u something for christmas._

**…You did? :)**

_yeah. can i come over?_

**Of course. I don’t have a present ready for you though. :(**

_don’t worry about it. i’ll be there soon_

The doorbell rings about fifteen minutes later and Cas opens the door with a slight spring in his step, the first time he’s really felt okay in the past few days. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey,” Dean says. Cas opens the door wider to let him in and he walks past him into the house. Dean has a box in his hands, and looking at it closer, Cas sees that it’s covered in red and gold wrapping paper.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Dean,” Cas says in a small voice as they walk into the living room. Dean plops down onto the couch and Cas follows, sitting down a respectable distance away.

“I wanted to,” Dean replies in his own small voice.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you.”

“It’s fine, Cas, I told you. I, uh, I know how…things have been tough for you lately. I just wanted to…you know, do something for you.”

Cas smiles, looking at Dean like he hung the fucking moon and Dean looks down at his lap, a blush spreading on his cheeks. “That was very kind of you, Dean.”

“Yeah, well…here,” he says, handing over the box. Cas takes it and just looks at it for a moment, before gingerly opening the paper, trying not to tear it too much. The paper is covering a box, and it’s taped shut. “Sorry, I ordered it online and then just wrapped the box it came in,” Dean says.

“It’s okay, let me go get…” Cas says, trailing off awkwardly. He was about to say “scissors”, before he remembers that Amelia has taken away all the sharp things in the house, including the kitchen knives and every pair of scissors they own.

“What?” Dean asks, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Um, can I use your keys or something? To open it?” he says, avoiding Dean’s eyes.

“Sure,” he says, pulling them out of his pocket and handing them over. Cas is grateful; that could have been a lot more awkward than it was. He uses Dean’s car key to rip open the tape and finally gets the box open. He lifts the tissue paper on the top and sees some type of fabric underneath it. He picks it up and spreads it open and sees that it’s a flannel shirt, much like the ones Dean is always wearing. It’s purple, grey, black, and white, and something about that color combination looks extremely familiar to him, but he can’t quite place it.

“Um…” Dean says, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck. “Charlie was telling me about, uh, pride flags? And I looked up the one for, uh, asexuality and it’s purple, grey, black, and white. So I thought this shirt would be, you know…”

“Holy shit,” Cas mutters.

“Is it dumb? I don’t know, I just thought…”

“Dean, this is… _holy shit_.”

“Do you like it?” Dean asks, having the nerve to look unsure.

“I like you,” Cas says boldly, belatedly realizing how it sounds but not really caring. “I _love_ this.”

Dean snorts out a laugh and Cas is pretty sure he’s blushing. “Really?”

“Dean, thank you. I – I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to me.”

“Well. You’re welcome,” Dean murmurs.

“Do you realize how high you’ve set the bar now?” Cas says, only half joking. “How am I possibly supposed to get you something of this caliber?”

“I didn’t get it so you’d get me something awesome back, you know.”

“I know you didn’t. But I still want to get you something nice.”

“Bake me another pie and we’ll call it even,” Dean says, clapping him on the shoulder and winking, which Cas takes to mean the moment is over.

He snorts. “Done.”

***

“Can I ask you something, Castiel?”

Cas looks up at Dr. Milton’s question, the first thing either of them have said in probably five minutes. Cas had just been sitting there in silence, and she let him have the time he needed. He’s been staring at the candle on her desk, watching the flame flicker and burn.

“Okay,” he says.

“Why do you hurt yourself?”

He blanches, unsure of what to say. He feels his face fall a little bit, and he avoids her eyes.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” she says. “Do you mind if we talk about it?”

“I guess not,” he mutters.

“I just want to understand you better,” she says. “I’m curious as to what you feel you get out of it.”

“Um,” he says, trying to think of an answer that will make sense. “I guess it makes me feel…like I have control. Like I control how much pain I’m in, and it’s not up to my mental illness. It’s up to me.”

She nods and looks at him, her gaze careful and searching. She doesn’t look away to write anything down, which he appreciates in the back of his mind, feeling like she’s genuinely interested and concerned. “I understand,” she murmurs. “That’s an answer I hear from a lot of people, you know. You’re definitely not alone in feeling like this, Cas. I don’t want you to feel like you are.”

He gives a perfunctory “hm” in response, his eyes back on his shaking hands in his lap. He knows what she’s going for and he appreciates it, but it doesn’t alleviate any of the guilt and pain he’s currently feeling from his relapse.

“That doesn’t help you, does it?” she asks, her voice knowing.

He snorts and says, “Not exactly,” trying not to sound bitter.

“What do you need right now, Castiel?” she asks, her voice imploring. “What do you think would help you stop another relapse from occurring?”

“You tell me.”

“Okay, think of it this way…tell me one thing that makes you happy.”

“Dean,” he says automatically, not even caring how pathetic he must sound.

But she just smiles at him, her face going soft. “I’m glad you have someone that makes you feel that way.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to use people as reasons to get better,” he says quietly. “Aren’t you supposed to find all of that in yourself or something?”

“Well,” she says, drawing out the word a bit, thinking. “I wouldn’t suggest using Dean as the _only_ thing pushing you to get better. I do think it’s something you should find in yourself, but I see nothing wrong with wanting to get better for him as well. I know that sometimes, when I have a hard time getting out of bed in the morning, I think of my husband, and my family. They’re my reason to keep going sometimes, when I just can’t find it in myself. But, I don’t know…I do think at the end of the day, it’s yourself and your own life you have to value. Does that make sense?”

He nods. “Yeah. I just…I don’t think I _do_ value my own life. The only reason I stopped cutting in the first place was because of how much it hurt my mom. I didn’t stop because it was hurting me, I stopped because it was hurting her.”

“Yes, and I hear that a lot, too. Unfortunately,” she says, sighing, “I don’t think learning how to value yourself is something that can be taught. It’s just something that you have to actively work on, day by day. And so while you’re doing that, and while you’re trying to rebuild yourself, you find other reasons, like Dean, or your mom, or your little sister. Do it for them until you can do it for yourself too.”

***

Christmas comes and goes without much fanfare. Cas, Claire, and Amelia exchange small presents, but they mostly just lounge around and watch movies in their pajamas all day, before eating another smaller Thanksgiving-like dinner. He texts Dean to make sure he’s having a good day with Sam, and Dean tells him about the small gifts they swapped with each other. Neither of them mention Dean’s absent father.

Cas checks his email almost obsessively, constantly waiting for the final grades to be posted online. They’re finally posted a few days before the new year, and Cas…actually managed to pass all of them. His lowest grade was a C+, and he’s so appreciative he almost cries. And if he teared up a little, well, no one needs to know.

He doesn’t cut again. He considers this extremely lucky. He was afraid relapsing once would completely open the door and let all of his progress out, but it didn’t. The urges come and go, of course, and it’s hard at first, because cutting was his _thing_. It was the thing he could turn to when he just needed that release, and he has to try to find and create a new outlet. He ends up seeing Dr. Milton three times a week over the holidays, and they work hard to create a new and updated safety plan.

Amelia also implemented her own safety plan, in the form of checking his body. He was embarrassed at first and vehemently tried to refuse, but she had this somber look on her face, like it was just as hard, if not more so, for her as it was him, so he eventually relented. She just makes him show her his stomach, arms, and legs once a day and it’s over quickly.

Dr. Milton suggests wearing a rubber band to snap against his wrist when he gets the urge, and it usually works. He mostly forgets that he’s wearing it, though, so he turns to other methods. One particularly morbid coping skill that he takes up is drawing horizontal lines on his arm in red marker. Amelia jumped when she checked his arm that day, and it took several minutes to explain what it was and why he felt it necessary to do it.

Dean, Sam, Charlie, and Lisa come over for New Year’s, and all five of them plus Claire and Meg hang out in the living room watching movies and eating snacks all night, including the cherry pie Cas baked especially for Dean. (The look on his face was a gift in itself.) Lisa kisses Cas on the cheek at midnight and he blushes, which makes her laugh. They’re all up for the rest of the night talking and hanging out, eventually falling asleep in a big huddle around the floor, and it’s the first time Cas thinks…maybe the new year will be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic hit 100 kudos the other day and I just want to say thank you SO MUCH. You honestly have no idea how much that means to me. The fact that the fic that I'm writing to deal with my own issues has meant anything to anyone is just amazing. Thank you so so so much for reading and supporting <3


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for homophobia and abuse

“You ever think about losing the piercings, Clarence? And the makeup?” Meg asks out of the blue one night, staring at him inquisitively from over the dinner table.

“What do you mean?” he asks, squinting at her.

“Well, you know. You’d be hot if you weren’t so set on making yourself look… _un_ hot.”

“Meg,” Claire says, sounding a little surprised on Cas’s behalf.

Cas frowns at Meg. “What do you mean?” he asks again, feeling strangely hurt.

“She didn’t mean anything,” Claire says quickly. “Right, Meg?”

Meg rolls her eyes. “I’m just saying,” she says. “The piercings and stuff. You should seriously consider taking them out.”

“Okay, and why the sudden need to lower my self-esteem?” he asks, trying to sound sarcastic but just coming out sounding sad.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Clarence,” she says. “You’re still hot. I just think you’d be hotter if you looked normal.”

“Thank you for your input,” he says in a low voice, poking at his food with his fork, his appetite suddenly gone.

***

Cas is laying down on his bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to will Meg’s words from his mind when his phone rings. He looks at the screen and sees that it’s Dean, and he’s almost ashamed to admit how much his mood is lifted just from the sight.

“Hello, Dean,” he says into the receiver.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean replies. Cas hears wind blowing, and he assumes Dean is outside.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine. Look, uh…this is gonna sound weird, but…I kind of need you to do something for me.”

“Anything, Dean. What do you need?”

Dean is silent for a moment before he speaks again. “Do you think you could meet me at the motel in town?”

“The motel?” Cas questions. “Um, I probably could. Why?”

“Can I tell you later?”

“I guess?” he says, saying it like a question.

“I just, uh…I kinda need you right now, man.”

Cas’s heart starts beating faster at Dean’s words and he tries to tell himself to stay calm. “Is everything okay, Dean?”

“I’ll be fine. Just, meet me? Please?”

“Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Dean pauses for a long moment. “Thanks, Cas.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Cas says, and he hangs up.

Cas stares at his phone for a while, not sure what to think. He’s trying not to jump to any conclusions, but Dean sounded…off. And Cas can’t for the life of him imagine why Dean needs to meet him at the motel. But he meant it when he said he’d do anything for Dean, so he puts his trenchcoat on and prepares for a walk in the cool night.

Amelia is already at work for the night and Claire and Meg are in the living room watching TV.

“Claire, I’m going out. I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Behave yourselves, please?”

“Where are you going? It’s like ten o’clock,” Claire says, sitting up from where she was leaning against Meg.

“Um, Dean asked me to meet him somewhere. I’m not sure why. I’ll be home later, I presume.”

Meg winks at him. “Have fun, Clarence. _Behave yourselves_ ,” she says, in a mocking and entirely too obvious voice.

“It’s not…” he says, trailing off. He squints at them and just says, “Goodbye.”

The motel in the middle of town is about a fifteen-minute walk, but even though Cas makes it there relatively quickly, it feels like longer because of how cold it is. When he finally reaches the parking lot, he looks around for a second before he sees Dean leaning up against the wall next to the room with the number three on the door. As he gets closer, the light illuminates Dean’s face more and once it does, Cas’s stomach drops. He has a split lip and a thin trail of blood pouring out of his nose.

“Dean,” Cas says urgently, running up to him and closing the space between them.

“Cas,” Dean says, avoiding his eyes. He pauses before he says, “Can we go inside before we do this?”

Dean doesn’t wait for Cas to answer, he just turns and opens the door, walking in and waiting for Cas to do the same. Cas follows him and closes the door behind him. Dean sits down on the one bed in the room and sighs, his shoulders looking heavy. Cas walks toward him and kneels down right in front of him, their faces close.

“Dean,” Cas says quietly, fighting the urge to reach up and touch his face. “What happened?”

“I fell,” Dean says, not even trying to sound convincing.

“Dean,” Cas repeats, his voice hard.

Dean sighs heavily. “I may have fallen into my dad’s fist.”

Cas’s heart jumps into his throat. “Your father did this to you?” he whispers.

Dean nods, but doesn’t say anything else. Cas stares at him for a minute before he gets up and walks into the bathroom. He gets a big wad of toilet paper and wets a few sheets, then carries them back out into the room. He kneels back down in front of Dean and gently dabs at the blood under his nose.

“Cas,” Dean says, halfheartedly pushing his hand away. “I’m fine,” he says softly.

Cas ignores him and continues to delicately clean his face. “Tell me what happened,” his voice coming out rough. “Please?” he adds, softer. Dean doesn’t say anything, and when Cas looks down and sighs, he sees that Dean’s hands are shaking. “Oh, Dean…” he whispers. He wants nothing more than to just take Dean’s hands in his and hold them until he feels okay and safe again, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to make Dean even more uncomfortable.

“I may have told my dad something he didn’t like,” Dean says.

“What do you mean?” Cas asks, still dabbing at Dean’s nose. He hasn’t touched his lip yet, because in the back of his mind, he’s scared. It feels so close, so intimate, and despite the fact that Dean’s clearly in pain here, he’s still not quite ready to cross that threshold.

Dean doesn’t say anything, though, and Cas looks up into his eyes and feels that intimate feeling building. He’s _never_ been this close to Dean before. They stare at each other for what feels like hours, but is probably in reality only a few seconds.

“Dean?” Cas whispers.

“I…came out to him,” Dean says, barely audible. Cas probably wouldn’t have heard him if their faces weren’t so close.

Cas recoils, anger building up inside him unlike anything he’s ever felt before. “You… _that’s_ why he did this to you?” he says, his voice growing in sound. Dean flinches and Cas tries to reign himself back in. The last thing he wants to do is cause Dean any more pain.

“It’s not a –“

“If you say it’s not a big deal, Dean…” Cas interrupts, shaking his head.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” he says, looking defeated.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Cas says. He takes a deep breath, looks in Dean’s eyes, then down to his lips. He brings the wet tissue up and gently dabs at his split lip. His hands are shaking, and he’s sure Dean can tell. He can’t think about that right now, though. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Dean scoffs. “Don’t be stupid, Cas.”

“Dean…”

“I’m fine, okay? It’s just a split lip.”

“Tell me what happened, Dean.”

“What does it look like? I told him, he did this, I left, came here, called you, and…here we are.”

“What are you supposed to do tomorrow, though? You have to go back home eventually.”

“Yeah, I haven’t really thought that far ahead,” Dean says, looking sad and bitter.

Cas just wants to _do_ something, to comfort him somehow, but he doesn’t know what to do. He sighs, rocking back on his feet and looking down at the ground. “What can I do, Dean?” he asks, desperate.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Dean says softly.

Cas hesitates for a moment, before deciding to rest his hands on Dean’s knees. He squeezes them reassuringly and Dean doesn’t do anything, just hunches his shoulders to try and make himself appear smaller. Cas stares at Dean’s face and notices one stray tear trailing down his face.

“Dean…” he whispers, his heart breaking. He reaches up to wipe it away.

“I’m overreacting,” Dean says abruptly, pushing away from Cas’s touch and wiping his face himself. “It’s really not a big deal. I can take a hit.”

“Dean, you are _not_ overreacting. Don’t even think that. Your father –”

“Can we just…hang out?” Dean says, cutting him off. “I just want to act like everything’s normal. That may be a shitty way to deal with things but I just…please?”

Cas stares at him for a long moment, trying to think of what to do. He sighs and decides to relent, because he doesn’t want to push Dean or do anything that will make his night even worse.

They lay down on the bed, a respectable distance between their bodies, and watch TV for a little while after that. They don’t say much for a long time, both of them just lying there and trying to act normal. Eventually, Cas lets his curiosity get the better of him.

“Dean, can I ask you something?”

He hears Dean huff quietly. “Depends.”

“Has this ever happened before?” he asks, needing to know but not wanting to hear it.

“No.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, he gets mad a lot and he can be kinda scary, but he’s never…”

“I’m so sorry, Dean. I’m sorry this happened to you,” Cas says quietly.

“It’s okay. Well I mean, I guess it’s not, but thanks.”

“Could you – I mean, have you ever considered living with your mom? Is that an option?”

“No,” Dean says, his voice short. “It’s not.”

“Why not?” Cas asks, knowing Dean doesn’t want to talk about it but being unable to stop himself.

“Cas. Can we not?”

“I’m sorry, Dean, but I just…I can’t just let you go _back_ there tomorrow. Why can’t you stay with your mom?”

“Cas, I can’t live with my mom, okay? She left. She left us. She doesn’t want me. So just drop it.”

“Dean…”

“You think I haven’t thought about it? Of course I have. But she doesn’t want me, she’s made that perfectly clear.”

Cas doesn’t know what to say. He stares at the side of Dean’s face while Dean acts like he’s concentrating on the TV screen.

“She said she needed time for herself. That she couldn’t stay with my dad anymore and she needed to be alone for a while. So she left. She _left us_ here, Cas.”

“I’m – I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe things will be different now,” Cas tries. “I’m sure if you tell her what happened she would take you and Sam in in a heartbeat.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.”

“Does she live around here?”

“She moved into an apartment around here. I’ve never been but I think it’s close.”

“Well maybe you should call her.”

“She doesn’t want me to do that, Cas.”

“Your father _hurt_ you, Dean. I have a very hard time believing she won’t care.”

Dean sighs, a heavy breath of air escaping his body. “Can we talk about this later?” He rubs his eyes tiredly.

“What, are we spending the night here?” Cas asks, his heartrate increasing at the prospect.

“Is that okay? You don’t have to, I mean…if you want to leave, that’s fine,” Dean says, avoiding Cas’s eyes.

“I’ll stay,” he says softly. “If you want me to.”


	19. Chapter 19

“I’ll take the floor,” Dean says.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dean,” Cas replies. “We can share the bed.”

Dean’s face quickly goes red and he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. “Um…”

“Is that okay?” Cas asks, suddenly worried he’d gone too far.

“No – I mean, yeah, that’s fine,” Dean mutters.

Cas nods and unmakes the bed, pulling the covers down while Dean takes off his leather jacket and places it gingerly on the chair in the room. Cas toes his shoes off and lays down, watching Dean walk around the room, and he feels his heartrate starting to elevate. He’s about to _share a bed_ with Dean. This is a level of intimacy they’ve never shared before, and if he thinks about it too hard he’s sure to ruin the whole thing.

Dean stands on his side of the bed for a minute before he too lays down. They’re both lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling. Cas wants to see him, though, so he turns onto his side and stares at Dean’s profile. “Are you going to be alright, Dean?”

Dean sighs quietly and turns onto his side as well, and their eyes meet. “I don’t know. Ask me again tomorrow.”

Cas looks into Dean’s eyes, the glow from the small lamp on the nightstand giving off just enough light, and Dean stares right back. Cas feels like his chest is blowing up, the intensity of the moment unlike anything he’s ever felt before. The closest he thinks he’s ever been to this is when they danced together at Homecoming.

And all at once, it’s too much.

“Dean…” Cas whispers, looking down at his chest to avoid his eyes. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He sees Dean swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. “Do what?” he asks softly, warily.

“I – I like you, Dean,” Cas says, only stumbling slightly. The weight on his shoulders suddenly lifts and he feels simultaneously light as air and heavy as lead in his stomach. “I can’t keep pretending that I don’t.”

Dean’s eyes widen and his breath hitches. “Cas…”

And then the gravity of what he’s just done hits him. He sits up quickly, almost banging his head on the headboard and he gets out of the bed quickly. “I’m so sorry, Dean, I don’t –“

“Cas,” Dean says, getting up as well. Cas backs up and keeps walking backward until he’s leaning against the wall, and Dean walks straight up to him, standing much closer than is necessary. “Cas,” he repeats, his voice hard. Cas wants to cry or scream or run away. How could he be so _stupid_?

“I should go,” Cas says quietly, looking at the ground.

“Say it again.” Dean lowers his head to force him to meet his eyes, and Cas’s eyes unwillingly pop up.

“No,” Cas murmurs.

“ _Cas_.”

“I like you, okay?” Cas blurts out, knowing resistance is going to be futile. “I like you, Dean. I like you so much I feel stupid. You’re my best friend, and the _last_ thing I want to do is ruin that, but I can’t keep pretending anymore. I just…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Cas feels sick. He’s going to throw up on Dean’s feet, he’s sure of it.

And then all of a sudden, there’s a hand on his chin and his face is being tilted up, and Dean is moving closer, and closer, and then…they’re just kissing. It feels at the same time like something they’ve been doing all their lives and something that no one anywhere has ever done before, like they’ve just discovered this astonishing new thing two people can share.

It’s over before it begins, though, and Dean backs away minutely, his face only inches away from Cas. There’s fear and panic in his eyes.

“Dean,” he whispers in wonder.

“I’m sorry,” Dean says, his voice rough. “I shouldn’t have…”

Cas cuts him off. He kisses him like he’s a desert and Dean is the pouring rain. It’s a soft and chaste kiss, just their mouths pressed gently against each other, because Cas has a lip ring and Dean has a split lip and he doesn’t want to hurt him. Cas thinks he’s never felt anything better, though. They break apart and Dean rests his forehead against Cas’s, both of them breathing heavily.

“Cas,” Dean says in a low voice that rattles Cas to his core. “I don’t wanna pretend anymore, either.”

“You – do you…you –” Cas says, stammering, unable to believe what Dean might be implying.

“Yes, doof. I like you too,” Dean says, huffing a laugh.

Cas feels Dean’s words fill him up like helium. “You do?” he asks, his voice sounding like a little kid. Dean kisses him in response. That works for Cas.

When they break apart again, Cas looks down at where he feels Dean’s hands resting on his hips, and he boldly places his hands on top of them. Dean shifts his hands and they interlock their fingers, and Cas’s breath hitches at the sight. He squeezes Dean’s hands, then pushes away from where he was leaning against the wall and, without letting go, walks them back toward the bed. Cas sits down cross-legged on the front of the bed and Dean sits down across from him, crossing his legs as well. They stare at each other for a long time now that they’re allowed, and both of them keep getting shy smiles and letting out giddy huffs of laughter.

“I’m sorry for being a coward,” Dean says, avoiding Cas’s eyes.

“Why would you say that?” Cas asks, frowning.

“I danced with you at Homecoming and then pretended like it didn’t happen. You must have thought I was such a dick.”

Cas snorts and debates if he should say what he was thinking at the time. “Well,” he says. “I admit I wasn’t your biggest fan for a few days.”

Dean laughs softly. “Sorry.”

“I forgive you.” Cas leans forward and kisses him to prove it, still in awe that he gets to do this now.

They must fall asleep at some point, because Cas comes to a while later, his body pressed against Dean’s. He lifts his head to look at him, and he’s fast asleep. They were _spooning_. Cas snorts a laugh of disbelief at the whole situation and puts his head back down, squeezing Dean’s torso gently and appreciatively. He could get used to this.

***

Cas wakes up for the second time to the feeling that he’s being watched. He opens his eyes and finds Dean resting his hands on Cas’s chest, his head laying on top, and he’s staring at Cas, his green eyes shining in the morning light coming in through the window.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, his voice rough with sleep. He smiles when Dean lets a small one creep across his face.

“Mornin’.” He hesitates only for a brief moment before leaning in and kissing Cas softly. His lip is still swollen, so it’s as chaste and tender as their kisses last night, but Cas has no qualms about it. He could exchange soft and sweet kisses with Dean all day. When Dean pulls away, Cas is sure he has the dopiest grin on his face.

“So listen,” Dean says a minute later, after they’re done staring at each other. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.”

“Which part?”

“About…my parents. I don’t – I don’t want to go back home,” he says, avoiding Cas’s eyes and looking torn. “I think maybe I _should_ call my mom. If anything, it would be for Sammy’s sake. I don’t want him around my dad if he’s capable of doing this,” he says, gesturing to his face.

“Where’s Sam now?”

“Told him to stay at a friend’s last night. I don’t know what to tell him about this, though. I don’t want him to know, but I want him to be safe, you know? I don’t know what to do.”

“If you don’t feel safe, I really think you should call your mom,” Cas says. “I don’t want you around your dad anymore.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Dean says. “We don’t even know if she would want us.”

“She’s your mother, Dean. Please just…try,” he asks, his voice a little desperate. “I can’t just let you go back there.”

Dean sighs and closes his eyes. He still has his head resting on his hands where they’re folded on top of Cas’s chest, and Cas stares at him while he thinks. Waking up to Dean’s face is…a very pleasant way to wake up.

He lifts his head eventually and reaches down, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He sits up and Cas follows suit. They sit next to each other on the foot of the bed while Dean fiddles around on his phone, pulling up his mom’s number. He takes a deep, calming breath, then presses ‘call’.

Cas can hear it ringing, and when a distinctly female voice answers and says ‘Dean?’, Dean reaches down with his free hand and interlocks his fingers with Cas’s, squeezing hard. Cas’s heart jumps, the new gesture and the fact that they do this now threatening to overwhelm him.

“Mom,” he says in a low voice. Cas takes a deep breath and tries to remind himself he needs to comfort Dean right now. He takes his other hand and places it on top of their interlocked fingers, rubbing Dean’s knuckles gently. “I, uh…how are you? No, I’m okay,” he says, then he snorts. “Well, actually, uh, I’m kinda not. It’s Dad. I wouldn’t be bothering you, but…no, Sam’s fine. Do you – do you think you could meet me somewhere? Okay. Yeah. How about the diner? Okay. Thanks. I’ll see you soon.” Dean ends the call and sighs, squeezing Cas’s hand once before letting go.

“So she’s meeting you at the diner?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Do you think – you don’t have to, but…could you…?”

“Of course, Dean.” Cas hesitates, then leans his face over and kisses Dean on the cheek. He sees a blush spread wide over Dean’s face, and Cas chuckles fondly.

“Let’s go, dork,” Dean mutters.

***

Mary Winchester is a beautiful woman. That’s the first thought Cas has when he lays his eyes on her. She looks so much like Dean, and he can immediately see where he got most of his good genes. She has short, blond hair and a kind, heart-shaped face. She’s sitting in a booth at the diner, and when she looks up and sees Dean, a wide smile appears on her face.

“Mom,” Dean says, a little wary. “Hi.”

“Dean,” she says, getting up and hugging him, squeezing tightly. When she pulls away and sees Cas, her eyebrows go up a little in surprise, and he’s not sure if it’s because of his appearance or just at the fact that he’s here. “Oh, hello,” she says. “Who’s this?” she asks Dean, a soft smile on her face.

“This is my – this is Cas,” Dean says, looking at the ground bashfully.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Winchester,” Cas says, only belatedly realizing she probably doesn’t use that last name anymore.

“Please, call me Mary,” she says kindly.

Mary and Dean sit down across from each other in the booth, and Cas slides in next to Dean. He immediately reaches over and takes Dean’s hand under the table.

“Dean,” Mary says, her voice hard for the first time, worrying Cas before she speaks again. “Tell me. Did your father do that?” she asks, gesturing with her head to Dean’s bruised cheek and split lip.

“Yeah,” Dean says. Cas is a little surprised; he thought she’d have to pull it out of him and that he wouldn’t be very willing to talk. He’s not going to question it, though.

“What happened?”

“I, um…” Okay, maybe this is the part where he clams up. He saw what his father did when he came out to him, so it’s natural that he’d be afraid to repeat the story to his mother. Cas squeezes his hand and Dean squeezes back, taking a deep breath. “I told him that I’m, uh…I – I came out. To him.”

She raises one eyebrow. “You told him that you’re gay?”

“Um, bisexual,” Dean says, staring at the table.

“And he hit you? Because of _that_?”

Dean nods but says nothing.

Mary lets out a big sigh. “Oh, Dean…I’m so sorry. I never – I never wanted this. I never wanted to leave you boys.”

“Then why did you?” Dean asks, avoiding her eyes, his voice bitter.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’d been with John since I was a teenager, and I just…I never knew what it was like to be on my own. I moved out of my parents’ house when I was eighteen and moved right in with him. I thought – I was selfish. I needed time. I’m sure you don’t want to hear my excuses. I just, I thought you boys would be okay without me for a while. But if I had known he was capable of doing this…”

“Please don’t make me go back there,” Dean says, his voice low and quivering. Cas looks over and sees a single tear falling down his face and his heart breaks.

“Dean,” Cas whispers painfully. He squeezes his hand as hard as he can, unsure of how to comfort him.

“I want you and Sam to pack your things tonight,” she says, sounding firm and already decided. “I’ll come with you if you don’t feel safe.”

“Are you serious?” Dean asks, the careful hope in his voice almost agonizing to hear.

“Dean,” she says softly, wiping a stray tear off of his face with the back of her hand. “Of course I am.”


	20. Chapter 20

“You’re not coming, Cas,” Dean says for the fourth time, while they’re waiting for Mary to finish using the bathroom.

“Yes I am,” Cas says again.

“No. You’re not. I don’t know if he’ll be there or not and I’m not putting you in that kind of situation. My mom can come and I’ll just call you later.”

“Dean…”

“It’ll be fine, Cas. I promise. Well, I hope it will be.” When Cas looks at him in disapproval, he says, “It will be. It will.” Cas isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince at this point.

When Mary comes out of the bathroom, Dean drops Cas’s hand, and while he understands, he still immediately misses the warmth.

“Mom, can you drop Cas off at his house on our way? I don’t want him coming with us.”

Cas sighs in frustration and clenches his jaw, but doesn’t object.

“Okay,” she says, looking between them for a moment. “Where’s Sam? I want him coming with us.”

“I’ll just pack a bag for him and we can get him when we’re done,” Dean says. Cas can tell Dean wants to do this alone and he doesn’t want to put Cas or Sam in danger, which Cas appreciates, even if he does wish he could come.

Dean and Cas get in the backseat of Mary’s car and Cas immediately reaches over for Dean’s hand. Dean hesitates at first, looking up at Mary in the front seat, but she’s focused on the road, so he relaxes into the touch. Cas smiles gently at him, still a little bit in disbelief that he can do this now.

When they get to Cas’s house, Dean gets out with him and walks him to the door.

“Please call me when you can, Dean,” Cas says uncomfortably, really not wanting to leave him. He reaches for Dean’s hand and Dean pulls away, looking back at his mom’s car. Cas sighs but doesn’t say anything.

“I will. But don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’m not alone. And my mom, she’s…she can be kinda scary,” he says with a laugh. “I don’t think my dad will try anything around her. And that’s if he’s even there.”

“Can I kiss you?” Cas asks, looking down at Dean’s chest to avoid his eyes. Dean turns his head to look at his mom’s car again, before quickly moving forward and pecking Cas on the lips. Cas smiles, feeling good for a moment despite how much he wants to go with him.

“Call you later,” Dean says, squeezing his hand once, and then he’s off.

***

_packed up mine and sammy’s stuff. dad was home but he let us go without much of a fight. i think he realized how much he fucked up. we’re officially moving in with my mom :)_

**That’s amazing Dean! You don't know how happy I am to hear that. How are you feeling?**

_i’m okay. i think it’ll be fine. its not perfect but shes trying at least. i think she feels bad for leaving and shes trying to make up for it, so we’ll see._

**Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow and we can talk more if you want. Goodnight, Dean.**

_night cas_

_don’t laugh but i miss you_

**I miss you too.**

**< 3**

***

Cas is sitting under a tree in the courtyard the next morning, trying not to bounce with anticipation. He just wants to see Dean, his…boyfriend? Partner? Friend that’s a boy that he kissed a few times? He realizes that he’s not sure _what_ to call him or what they are to each other. “Boyfriend” has a very nice ring to it, though.

He scans the courtyard for probably the tenth time, and when his eyes hit the front entrance, he sees Dean and Sam walking in together. Cas immediately jumps up and walks to them, meeting them halfway. Cas sees a dopey grin spread wide on Dean’s face when he sees him, and Cas is pretty sure his face looks exactly the same.

“Hi, Cas,” Sam says in a teasing, little brother voice.

“Oh,” Cas says, clearing his throat and tearing his eyes away from Dean. “Hello, Sam.”

“You two behave yourselves, now,” he says with a smirk before walking off.

Cas returns his eyes to Dean’s face and the dopey smile is back. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

Cas is about to lean in and kiss him, because that’s apparently a thing they can do now, but he stops himself, because he’s not sure if Dean wants to be public about their relationship (if that’s even what it is). Dean notices his hesitation, and he gently picks up his hand, interlocking their fingers. He looks down at Cas’s mouth, leans in, and presses a soft kiss to his lips. Cas sighs into it and brings his free hand up to hold Dean’s cheek. They pull back after a moment, because they _are_ in public, and smile at each other.

“Hi,” Cas says, running his hand softly down Dean’s neck.

“You already said that.”

“I’m happy to see you.”

“Me too,” Dean says, shyly looking at Cas’s chest to avoid his eyes. Their fingers are still entwined.

“Dean, are we…are we a couple?”

“I hope so.”

“So…people can know about us?”

“I think they’ve figured it out,” Dean says, looking around them and gesturing with his head to the few stragglers watching them. “Is – is that okay with you?”

Cas kisses him in response to such an inane question.

They break apart a split second later, both of them startled by a shrill scream.

“What the hell!” the distinct voice of Charlie shouts. Cas looks toward the sound of her voice and sees her running up to them. After she reaches them, she’s out of breath but that doesn’t stop her from saying in between pants, “What. The. Hell.”

“Hi, Charlie,” they both say in unison.

“Talk,” she says succinctly, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Um,” Dean says. He lifts up their joined hands and smiles shyly. Cas looks at him fondly then back to Charlie.

“How long has this been going on?” she asks, squinting at them.

“Since Saturday,” Cas says.

She says nothing for a minute, just looking between their faces and their hands, before a huge smile spreads wide on her face. “ _It’s about time_!” she yells.

“Charlie, please calm down,” Cas says, looking around them self-consciously.

“I’m sorry, I’m just…I’m so happy for you guys!” she squeals, folding her hands and bringing them up under her chin.

“Thank you,” Dean says bashfully.

“I want the whole story at lunch,” she says, pointing at them with her index finger.

“We’ll see,” Cas says, already trying to think of a way they can explain it that doesn’t involve telling her why they were at a motel together. He’s pretty sure Dean doesn’t want to talk about his dad with anyone else.

The bell rings then and Charlie bids them goodbye, squeezing them in a small group hug before she’s off again.

“What are we gonna tell her?” Cas asks. “I’m sure you don’t want to bring up the motel.”

“Eh, we’ll figure it out,” Dean says casually. “Let’s go.”

They start walking and Cas feels Dean’s hand brushing against his as they do. It feels like the easiest thing in the world to reach over and lace their fingers together.

***

“So who made the first move?”

“Charlie,” Cas says, a warning in his voice.

“Oh, come on! You can’t just _not_ give me details. And you should do it quick, Lisa will be here soon.”

“Are we supposed to hide this from Lisa or something?” Dean asks, squinting at her and pursing his lips.

“I don’t think so. She told me that she’s okay with us,” Cas says.

“What? When was this?”

“After the dance. She told me that it’s okay if I liked you too, and that if we got together, it’d be fine. Well, she said it would probably ‘suck’ for a while but then she’d get over it and we could all hang out.”

“Huh,” Dean says, clearly considering this.

“Better make a decision fast, here she is,” Charlie mutters.

“Hey guys,” Lisa says as she walks up, sitting down next to Charlie with her tray of food.

“Lisa,” Cas says. Dean reaches over under the table and wraps his hand around Cas’s. Cas looks at him and they share a private thought, and Dean nods almost imperceptibly.

“I think Cas and Dean have some news, Lis,” Charlie says. Cas glares at her while Dean lifts their joined hands.

“We’re, uh…you know,” Dean says.

A mixture of emotions flit across Lisa’s face, starting with shock and ending up somewhere near happy. “That’s awesome, you guys,” she says, sounding only slightly subdued. She has a smile on her face, though, and it looks genuine. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you,” they both say.

Charlie pops a potato chip in her mouth and says, “I still want to know who made the first move.”

“I did,” Cas says, not looking at her and focusing on his food.

“Whoa, seriously? I would _not_ have guessed that. Nice going, Casanova,” she says, winking at him. She puts her hand up for a high five but he ignores her. “Oh, come on. Excuse me for being excited here. Am I seriously not getting anything else out of you?”

“Nope,” Dean says, his mouth full. Cas looks at him and smiles, and he’s ashamed to admit that it’s become an endearing trait of his, his tendency to talk with his mouth full. What is happening to him?

Cas finally looks away from him and his eyes land on Charlie. There’s a smirk on her face that tells him she saw that reaction, and all she says is, “Gross.”

Cas agrees.

***

“So how was your first night with your mom?” Cas asks Dean as they’re walking home together later that afternoon. Their shoulders keep knocking into each other as they walk.

“I have to share a room with Sammy,” he says. “But it’s cool. Kinda weird, though.”

“Weird how?”

“Things are just kind of tense. I mean, she _left_ , you know? And I just keep thinking…sooner or later she’s gonna decide she was right in the first place, and she’ll ship us back to my dad.”

“Good things do happen, Dean.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Cas takes Dean’s hand in his and interlaces their fingers. “Like this,” he says, bringing Dean’s hand up to his mouth and kissing his knuckles. “This is a good thing.”

Dean looks at him fondly and Cas swears he sees a blush rising on his cheeks. “Yeah,” he mutters, squeezing Cas’s hand. “It is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if you guys are liking the direction this is going, so please leave me some comments just so I know how you're liking it. I feel like I'm just aimlessly floating around a bit so i'd love to hear more feedback! As always thank you for reading, the support you guys have shown has meant the world to me <3


	21. Chapter 21

Dean and Cas are lying on Cas’s couch together one night watching a movie Cas has never heard of. Cas is lying between Dean’s legs and leaning up against his torso while Dean absentmindedly rubs circles on Cas’s arm with his fingers. They’ve been spending most of their time together at Cas’s house, because Dean still feels like a “guest” at his mom’s apartment, so he says, so he doesn’t really feel comfortable hanging around all the time with Cas. Cas tries to tell him that it’s his home as much as it is hers now, and that she _wants_ him there. He understands that it’ll take a while before Dean feels fully relaxed there, though.

“Dean, can I ask you something?” Cas says out of the blue.

“Shoot.”

“Would you prefer I looked…different?”

Cas can feel Dean shift a little behind him. “What do you mean?”

“Would you rather I didn’t have piercings? Or wear makeup?”

“No,” Dean says shortly. “Why would I?”

Cas sits up and turns around so they can face each other. “Meg might have said something about my appearance the other day. And I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“What did she say?” Dean asks gruffly, making Cas’s stomach do a little flip at the protective edge to his voice.

“She said I would be ‘hotter’ if I looked ‘normal’.”

“Fuck that, Cas,” Dean says quickly. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. You are hot.”

Cas furrows his brow a little and his heart picks up speed. “I am?”

“Obviously.”

“So you really…you wouldn’t rather I looked different? More normal?”

“No. I don’t like you because of the way you look, Cas.” Cas’s face falls a little at that, and Dean scrambles to reword what he said. “No, I mean…I like the way you look, Cas. Trust me. I just meant, that’s not _why_ I like you.”

“Really?” Cas asks, his voice hopeful.

“Duh,” Dean says, rolling his eyes. “But I mean, how you look and stuff, that’s up to you. If it’s my opinion you’re worried about, don’t. I like you like this, and I’d like you like that. I’d like you no matter what you looked like,” he says, his voice sure but his eyes focused on the TV screen.

Cas practically _feels_ his heart swell. “Thank you, Dean. I feel the same way.”

“So…if I showed up at school tomorrow with a blue mohawk, and piercings on every inch of my face, and full tattoo sleeves, you’d still like me?” Dean asks, waggling his eyebrows.

Cas honest-to-God _giggles_. “I think I’d like you even _more_ ,” he says.

Dean gasps dramatically and places his hand over his heart. “Rude.”

Cas takes both of his hands and pokes Dean right above his hipbones, in the area on the sides of his stomach where he goes soft. He tickles him until Dean is a gasping mess beneath him and there are tears streaming from both of their eyes.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Dean yells between laughs. “I give in!”

“You guys are so weird,” Claire says, standing behind the couch with Meg at her side.

Cas jumps and pulls away from where he was nearly on top of Dean, drawing his hands away from his stomach.

“So are you guys finally together or what?” she asks.

Cas looks at Dean and picks his hand up in his, interlocking their fingers. “Yes,” he says confidently. “We are.” They smile at each other, neither apparently used to the idea that yes, they _are_ together.

“About time,” Meg says. “Do you know how much _mope_ we’ve had to deal with from this one, Winchester?”

Dean looks at Cas and smirks. “You been mopin’ around over me, babe?” he asks, making Cas’s heart jump at the term of endearment.

“No,” he says flatly. “She’s making that up.”

Dean smirks and Cas wants to kiss him, so he does, because he’s allowed to do that now. Claire and Meg make gagging noises from behind them.

“Hey, you. _Masters_. Did you really tell Cas that he’d be hotter if he looked ‘normal’?” Dean asks, looking at Meg accusingly.

“Dean,” Cas says quietly. “It’s fine.”

Meg rolls her eyes. “Maybe I did. What are you gonna do about it, Dean-o?”

“Say one more thing about him and you’ll deal with me. Got it?”

Meg snorts and looks at them disbelievingly before she and Claire promptly burst into laughter. “Bye,” they say, still laughing, as they walk toward the front door and leave.

“I tried,” Dean says, shrugging and turning back to the TV.

“Thank you for defending my honor, Dean,” Cas says, only half joking.

Dean smiles at him and wraps his hand around his shoulders, and they lean back into the couch together. “Always.”

***

“You’re wearing it,” Cas hears from behind him. He turns around and Dean is looking at Cas’s torso with a fond grin, where he’s wearing the asexual plaid shirt he got him for Christmas.

“Of course,” Cas says, lifting his arms bashfully.

“It looks good on you,” Dean says, before taking Cas’s hand in his and leaning forward to peck a kiss on his lips.

“Thank you,” Cas says against his lips.

“So listen,” Dean says after backing away, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Would you have any interest in going out with me?”

“I thought we were already doing that,” Cas says with a frown.

“No, doof, I meant tonight. Do you wanna go out?”

“Like…a date?” Cas asks, his heart swelling.

“Yeah, Cas. Like a date,” Dean says with a laugh.

“I’d love to, Dean. Of course. What do you want to do?”

“Would dinner and a movie be lame?”

“Why would that be lame?” Cas asks, squinting.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s, like, cliché or something. It’s what everyone does on dates.”

“Well I’ve never been on a date before, so it’s new to me.”

Dean does a double take at that. “Wait, you haven’t?”

“I thought you knew that,” Cas says, a blush threatening to spread on his face.

“I think I just assumed you had. Like I said, you’re hot,” Dean says, clapping Cas on the shoulder and winking.

Cas frowns at him in mock disapproval. “Do you want me to go out with you or not?”

Dean chuckles. “Sorry. So…yes?” he asks, a dorky grin on his face.

Cas feels an equally dorky grin spread on his face. “Duh.”

***

Cas takes a deep breath and, pushing down his embarrassment, knocks on Claire’s door. He hears shuffling, then Meg opens the door.

“Can we help you?”

He sighs when he sees her; he _really_ doesn’t want to do this with Meg, because she’s already made her opinion on Cas’s appearance pretty clear, but it looks like he doesn’t have a choice. He huffs quietly and says, “Um…I was wondering if…you could help me…”

“Spit it out, Clarence.”

“I have a date with Dean tonight,” he says, looking at the ground. “I was hoping you could help me with my appearance.”

Meg smirks and looks him up and down. “Sure, we’ll help you. God knows you need it.”

Cas frowns and clenches his jaw. This was a mistake.

“Meg,” Claire says in disapproval, and Cas smiles at her appreciatively. He turns around and walks back to his room and they follow him. “So what kind of look are you going for? What are you guys doing, anyway?” she asks.

“We’re going to dinner and a movie.”

Meg snorts. “Of course you are.”

“Meg, if you don’t want to help…” Cas says, trailing off in annoyance.

“Easy, Clarence, I’m just messing with you. I’ll help.”

“So what kind of look do you wanna go for?” Claire asks again. “Casual? Fancy? Casual-fancy?”

“I have no idea what any of those entail,” he says.

Claire snorts. “Like, do you want to look like you’re trying really hard to look nice? Or do you want to look like you just rolled out of bed and walked to the restaurant?”

“Um…somewhere in the middle, maybe?”

“Okay,” she says, flipping through his closet. There’s really not much of a variety, it’s mostly just a bunch of black shirts, but he also has a white button-down near the back, and she pulls it out.

“Are you cool with wearing white? Or would you rather wear black? I think this shirt with black jeans will look nice but not _too_ nice. What do you think?”

“I’ll go with whatever you say.”

“Okay, here, put it on and then we’ll do your hair.”

Cas pulls his black long sleeved t-shirt off and immediately is aware of his slowly fading scars, right there on his arm. He tries to hold himself in a way that neither of them see, and he quickly pulls the white button-down on, buttoning it up while his heartrate slows down.

“Looks good. You want to go out with me instead?” Meg says with a wink.

“Haha, very funny,” Claire says, sounding possessive.

“You do realize we’re both gay, right?”


	22. Chapter 22

The doorbell rings at 6:44 PM. It's a little earlier than seven, and Cas manages to convince himself that maybe Dean's just as excited for this as he is. His heart jumps into his throat, inexplicably nervous, and he walks down the stairs with a slight spring in his step. _It’s just a date_ , he tells himself. _No big deal. Just his first date_ ever _, and with_ Dean _. Totally not a big deal._

He opens the door and is met with the sight of Dean, looking for all intents and purposes like a walking daydream. He’s leaning up against the pillar on the porch and Cas takes a quick moment to catalog what he’s wearing. He’s got a black t-shirt on with a dark grey button-down over top, underneath a brown leather jacket that Cas has never seen him wear before. It fits him a lot better than his old one, Cas notices.

“Dean,” Cas breathes, feeling a smile creep onto his face. “You look very nice.”

Dean looks Cas up and down and Cas blushes under the attention. “You too, Casanova,” he says. “You ready to go?”

“Yes. I’d invite you in, but to be honest, I’d rather you avoid Meg and Claire and their little comments. Is that alright?”

Dean snorts. “I won’t argue with that,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Cas closes the door behind him and they head for Dean’s car. Dean walks up to the passenger side door with Cas and opens it for him. “For you, good sir,” he says in an exaggerated British accent, and Cas smiles fondly.

“Dork.”

Once they’re on their way, Cas has the strange urge to scoot all the way over in the seat and cuddle up against the side of Dean’s body. To restrain himself, he reaches over and takes Dean’s right hand in his left, and squeezes. Dean looks over at him and smiles, and Cas murmurs, “Eyes on the road, Winchester.”

“You’re the one makin’ me drive one-handed here,” Dean says. Cas lifts their hands and kisses Dean’s knuckles in response, feeling cheesy and dorky and sappy, and it’s quite possibly the greatest feeling he’s ever known.

They pull up to a restaurant called The Roadhouse a few minutes later. Cas has never been here before, but he can already that it looks kind of rough from the outside.

“Is this a restaurant or a bar?” Cas asks Dean warily before they get out of the car.

“I think it’s both,” Dean says. He rubs the back of his neck and adds, “There’s not a whole lot of options for ‘date nights’ around here. Sorry. Is this okay?” he asks, looking unsure.

“It’s fine, Dean. Relax,” Cas says, gently running his hand down his forearm and squeezing his hand. “I’m supposed to be the one with anxiety here.”

Dean snorts and smiles at Cas in a way he’s still not quite used to. He’s not sure he ever _will_ get used to it. He leans in and it takes almost everything in Cas to lean away.

“I don’t kiss before the first date, Winchester,” he says, in a stern voice.

Dean raises his eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

Cas nods his head. “Yep.”

He rolls his eyes and turns the car off. “Let’s go inside, dork.”

They walk in, hand in hand, and Cas’s senses are immediately a little overwhelmed. There are people talking loudly all over, there’s music playing in one corner, there’s people playing pool in another, and the whole place looks like it should smell of sweat and beer. Somehow, though, it works.

“You okay?” Dean asks near Cas’s ear, making Cas shiver, and he squeezes his hand in comfort.

Cas looks up at him and his eyes are shining bright green in the low light of the restaurant. He’s really not sure why he instated that ‘no kissing before the first date’ rule. He’s really regretting it now. “I’m good,” he says in a low voice.

They walk further into the crowd and look around for a spot to sit, eventually finding a free booth along one of the walls in a slightly quieter area of the room. They sit across from each other on opposite sides of the booth and pick up the menus sitting on the edge of the table.

“Winchester,” a familiar voice says from above them. Cas looks up and sees Jo Harvelle, one of Dean’s friends that Cas never really “clicked” with standing in front of their table, a notepad in her hands. She has an easy smile on her face, though, and she looks happy to see them. “Hey. Cas, right?” she says, addressing him.

“Yes. It’s nice to see you,” he says politely.

“Hey, squirt,” Dean says.

“You guys know what you want yet?”

“I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger and a Coke,” Dean says.

“Same for me,” Cas decides. “Although make mine diet, please.”

She writes it down and looks between them for a short moment. “Got it. Have fun, you two,” she says, winking at them.

“I don’t think she likes me,” Cas says, looking down at the table and avoiding Dean’s eyes.

“Why would you say that?” Dean asks, and Cas can practically hear him frowning.

“I don’t know. I never really connected with her, or Bela and Victor. Not like I did with you and Charlie and Lisa.”

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you.”

“Maybe,” he mutters.

“If it makes you feel any better, _I_ like you.”

Cas blushes and tries to pretend he’s not as affected by that as he really is. “I’m already dating you, Dean, you don’t have to win me over.”

Dean winks at him and Cas rolls his eyes. Jo drops their sodas off then and they smile at her in thanks.

“So what movie do you want to see?” Dean asks, opening the paper on his straw and sticking it in his drink.

“Who gets to pick?”

“We can take turns. You can pick this time and then I get to pick next time.”

“Next time? That’s very presumptuous of you, Dean.”

“Come on, I know you can’t resist me,” he says, waggling his eyebrows.

“I want to see The Bye Bye Man,” Cas says, ignoring him.

“The…the what now?” Dean asks, a look of confusion on his face that makes Cas chuckle.

“The Bye Bye Man,” he repeats. “It’s a horror film.”

Dean rubs his hand tiredly across his forehead. “Of course it is. How’d I get stuck with such a weirdo as a boyfriend?”

Cas heart skips a beat at the word “boyfriend” and from the look on Dean’s face, he can tell.

“Is that – are we – I mean, that’s what you are, right?” Dean asks, looking confused and unsure, and it hurts Cas a little.

“Of course, Dean,” he says softly.

“Okay,” he says, exhaling heavily and smiling. “Good.”

“Dork,” Cas mutters.

“So. The Bye Bye Man. Is that a movie about me or something?”

Cas looks at Dean in confusion. “…What?” he asks, his face blank.

“Get it? Because I’m bi? Bi? Bye? No?”

“…Oh my God. Lamest joke _ever_. I should walk out on you right now.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love me.”

Both of their eyes widen at what he said, and they blush and avoid looking at each other. Luckily, that’s when Jo comes up with their food.

“Two bacon cheeseburgers,” she says, setting one down in front of each of them. “Let me know if you need anything else, guys.”

They thank her and then they both pick up their burgers, making happy sounds when they taste the first bite.

“Amazing,” Dean grunts.

“Agreed.”

They eat in relative silence, both of them just enjoying their meal. Occasionally their eyes meet, and they share soft smiles in between bites of food. They’re on a _date_. Cas isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to this.

They finish eating a while later and get ready to leave, putting their coats back on and leaving a generous tip for Jo. Dean insists on paying, but Cas made him promise to let him pay for the movie, which Dean reluctantly agreed.

When they get outside, they walk toward Dean’s car and Dean walks to the passenger side to open the door for Cas, ushering him in with a hand on the small of his back, the touch making butterflies flutter in Cas’s stomach.

Dean shuts the door and walks over to his side, and when he climbs in, Cas scoots over on the seat and moves into Dean’s personal space. He looks down at his lips, and with only a small second of hesitation, leans in.

The kisses they’ve shared up until now have been very gentle and chaste, mostly because Dean had a split lip and Cas didn’t want to hurt him, but also because Cas has never kissed anyone before. Ever. So he kind of has no idea what he’s doing, and anything more than a soft brush of their lips against each other’s seems too daunting and too intimidating to him.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Dean says against his lips. Cas huffs and backs away a little bit. “My lip is fine now, Cas. You’re not gonna hurt me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Dean, I don’t…I don’t know what I’m doing. With any of this. Kissing, and dating, and _everything_. This is all new to me.”

“You’re doing just fine, Cas,” he says. He leans in and kisses him again, before saying against his lips, “Trust me.”

They continue to share soft kisses that don’t really go anywhere for a few minutes. Cas grabs onto the lapels of Dean’s jacket, and it feels so _pure,_ and good, and sweet, that it threatens to overwhelm him and he has to pull away.

“We’re gonna miss the movie,” he mutters, smoothing his hands down Dean’s chest and moving back to his seat on the other side of the car.

Dean takes a deep breath and starts the car. “The movie. Right. The movie about the bisexual ghost man.”

They make an 8:30 showing of the movie, and the theater is mostly empty, save for a few small groups of teenagers and an older couple. Cas and Dean sit in the back row and Dean immediately starts wolfing down popcorn. Cas watches the previews before the movie with rapt attention, taking note of all the horror movies coming out soon.

“That one looks good,” Cas whispers after watching a trailer for the new sequel to The Ring.

“We’re not seeing that,” Dean says, soft but firm, eyeing the screen with disdain.

“Aw, I’ll hold your hand, Dean,” Cas teases, and Dean pushes at him with his shoulder petulantly.

The movie starts a few minutes later and Cas settles in, getting comfortable in his seat. He reaches over to steal the popcorn bucket from Dean and their hands meet, the heat of it warming Cas from the inside out. He reaches in and is unsurprised to find half of it gone before the movie’s barely begun. He snorts to himself fondly and returns his attention to the screen.

A little bit into the movie, Dean reaches over and grabs Cas’s hand, twining their fingers together. Cas looks at him and smiles, and Dean leans in to kiss him. He kisses back for a few seconds, then pulls away. Dean chases his lips and Cas ignores him, turning his head back to the movie, causing Dean to accidentally press a kiss to his ear.

“Cas,” Dean whispers, leaning up against him. “You know what people on a date do when they go to a movie, don’t you?” The rumble of his voice against his ear makes Cas shiver.

“Watch the movie?” Cas says, a look of confusion on his face.

“No. They do this,” he says, before leaning in and kissing him again. Cas pulls away again.

“Dean, I spent twenty-two dollars on these movie tickets. I’m not going to kiss you and miss the whole movie,” Cas says, disapproval lacing his voice.

Dean sighs heavily and pulls back, sulking in his seat. “I curse myself for falling for such a nerd,” he mutters.

His words make Cas quiver involuntarily, but he doesn’t give in. He reaches over and twines their fingers back together instead, pulling them up to his mouth and kissing Dean’s knuckles.

“This movie is good, Dean. You should pay attention.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but says nothing. They hold hands for the rest of the movie, and it fills Cas with warmth every time Dean shifts and squeezes his hand. It makes eating popcorn relatively difficult, but it’s worth it.

The lights fade back on a couple hours later as the credits roll. Cas squeezes Dean’s hand once before letting go and gathering up their trash.

“What did you think?” Cas asks excitedly.

“So the Bye Bye Man was an alien, right?”

Cas looks at him in disapproval. “You weren’t even watching it, were you?”

“…I might have nodded off a few times.”

“Dean,” Cas groans. “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, I’ve been up since like six am. It’s been a long day.”

“I’m sorry to keep you out so late,” Cas says sarcastically.

“Hey,” Dean says, walking in front of him and stopping. He smiles and says, “Worth it,” before leaning in and kissing him.

They get in Dean’s car then and Dean plugs his phone into the speakers. “Pick something,” he says, handing Cas his phone. “And just so you’re aware, yes, this is a test. So pick wisely.”

Cas gingerly takes Dean’s phone and looks at it warily. He knows how important music is to Dean, and he’s actually kind of worried he’ll pick wrong. But Dean wouldn’t have music on his phone that he didn’t like, though, right?

“Some of it’s Sammy’s,” he says, as if on cue. “He forced me to put some stuff for him on there.”

“Sure he did,” Cas says. He scrolls through the artists and near the end of the list, he sees Taylor Swift. He smirks and clicks her name, and clicks on Shake It Off. The drums start coming out through the speakers and Dean looks at Cas like Cas caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Sammy made me. I swear.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. I like Taylor Swift too.”

Dean looks at him but says nothing. Cas worries for a second that he’s actually embarrassed, but then the chorus starts and Dean is suddenly yelling about how the haters are going to hate. Cas looks over at him and lets out a wholehearted laugh, then joins him in singing. They make their way through six songs before Cas realizes Dean’s just been driving around aimlessly.

“Dean, where are we going?” Cas asks, turning the volume down.

“Nowhere. I just…I didn’t, uh…you know.”

Cas squints at him. “What?”

“I didn’t want to take you home yet,” he mutters.

“Oh,” Cas says, his heart swelling with fondness. “Well, um…my mom works the night shift, so she’s not home. And it’s Friday, so we don’t have school tomorrow. We can hang out at my house if you want.”

Dean looks over at him and smiles. “You sure?” Cas nods. “Okay. Awesome.”

Cas smiles too then picks Dean’s phone back up, scrolling through his music again. He knows Led Zeppelin is one of Dean’s favorite bands, so he plays the only song by them he knows, When the Levee Breaks. The look Dean gives him when the first notes start playing will be going through his head the rest of the night.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentioned self harm

“You know, Shake It Off makes me think of you,” Dean says out of the blue. They’re lying on Cas’s bed watching The Blair Witch Project on his laptop, because it’s one of Cas’s favorites and Dean had never seen it, a crime if you ask Cas. Cas huffs quietly and pauses the movie, because Dean isn’t paying attention and he doesn’t want him to miss anything.

He looks over at Dean and smirks, saying, “Do I even want to know why?”

“It was stuck in my head the day I met you. This annoying little emo kid bothering me and trying to be my _buddy_ while fucking Taylor Swift is stuck in my head. Worst day ever.”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

“What?” Dean asks, scrunching his eyebrows. “Cas, I don’t speak geek.”

Cas snorts. “Just watch the movie, Dean,” he says, shaking his head fondly and pressing play again.

When the movie nears the end, Cas ends up watching Dean more than the screen. When they start hearing the voice of Josh yelling, Dean’s face is a hilarious picture of terrified.

“What the fuck,” Dean whispers when they run into the house. “Why are you making me watch this.” He reaches down and grabs one of Cas’s hands and squeezes it _hard_. He full on jumps when they show Michael standing in the corner, and he bangs his head on the wall behind Cas’s bed. “Shit!” Cas has to turn his head and stifle his laughter in the space between Dean’s shoulder and his neck.

“Holy fuck,” Dean says once it’s over. “That…that was _real_?”

“Yeah! Someone found the footage of three missing people that were terrorized by a witch, edited it together, and then made it into a hit movie. Can you believe it?”

Dean pauses. “…It’s not real, is it?”

“No, Dean.”

“Is there a sequel?”

“Yeah, there’s one but it’s not the same story. But they actually just made a new one last year that follows this one. Do you wanna watch it?” Cas asks excitedly.

Dean looks at him fondly. “Now I know what I have to do to get you excited about something. It’s just gotta be about a scary movie, or the color black or something.”

“Can we watch it, Dean? Please?” he asks, batting his eyelashes and giving Dean his best puppy dog face.

Dean snorts and rolls his eyes. “I might fall asleep, but yeah, we can watch it. Nerd.”

Cas has to shake Dean’s shoulder a couple times to keep him awake, but by the end, he’s just as enthralled with it as he was with the first one.

“Oh, shit,” he says when he hears Heather’s voice. “ _Shit_. Is it really her?!” he whispers frantically.

“Shh.”

When it’s over, Dean says eagerly, “So the witch was an alien, right?”

“Dean, you can’t assume the monster in every horror movie is an alien.”

“Okay but the witch was definitely an alien.”

“Whatever you say, Dean,” Cas says, his eyes starting to fall shut of their own accord.

“Were they all dead the whole time?”

Cas ignores him.

“Cas, hey. Can I…I mean, is it okay if I – you know, sleep here?” Dean asks.

“Of course, Dean,” he says. He turns onto his side and drapes his arm over Dean’s chest, hugging him tight. “Goodnight.”

He feels Dean snort softly beneath him. “Night, Cas.”

***

Cas comes to the next morning to the pleasant feeling of something hugging him, a big ball of warmth pressed against his whole body. He opens his eyes and sees the sleeping face of his boyfriend inches away from his, and he’s snoring softly. Cas smiles and kisses his cheek. “Dean?”

“Mm.”

“Dean, wake up. You’re snoring.”

“Deal with it.”

“I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”

“Ugh,” Dean groans, finally opening his eyes. “What time is it?” he asks, rubbing at them tiredly.

“Uh, just after seven.”

“Cas, we were up until like four watching your Godforsaken alien-witch movies. Let me sleep,” he grumbles before closing his eyes and turning to face the wall.

“You’re grumpy in the mornings. Good to know,” Cas says. “I would’ve thought I’d be the grumpier one of us two.”

“Shh.”

“Do you want me to go make breakfast?”

Dean turns back around at that and wraps his arm around Cas’s body, holding him in place. “Shh,” he repeats. “Sleep.”

Cas sighs and relents. He could think of worse things to do on a Saturday morning than cuddle with his boyfriend.

“I knew you’d be a cuddler,” he says softly.

***

The second time Cas wakes up, it’s a lot less pleasant, because he’s alone and cold. “Dean?” he says, not opening his eyes. “Deeean?” When he hears no answer, he opens his eyes and looks around his room but Dean isn’t there. He almost starts to freak out, thinking he left, but then he smells the distinct aroma of bacon drifting into his room and he smiles. _How domestic and gross_ , he thinks affectionately.

He gets up and quietly walks downstairs and into the kitchen, and sees Dean standing at the stove, his back to him, flipping pieces of bacon in a skillet. Cas walks up behind him and wraps his arms around his torso, kissing the side of his neck as he hugs him.

“Hi,” Cas says.

“Hey,” Dean replies, putting his hands on top of Cas’s and interlocking their fingers.

“You’re making us breakfast.”

“I am.”

“Thank you.”

Dean turns around in Cas’s arms and looks at him for a moment, before leaning in and kissing him slowly. It’s just a simple press of their lips against each other, but then Cas feels Dean’s mouth open under his and all of a sudden, he feels the wet press of Dean’s tongue against the seam of his lips. Cas doesn’t mean to, but he immediately goes rigid, and Dean quickly pulls away.

“Sorry,” he says.

“No, I’m sorry, you just…surprised me. I’ve never…” Cas says, trailing off.

“You’ve never had someone else’s tongue in your mouth before?” Dean asks bluntly.

“You know, now that you mention it, no, I haven’t,” he deadpans.

“It might be an acquired taste. We can talk about it more when we haven’t just woken up.”

Cas snorts and pulls away from him. “Deal.”

Dean finishes making breakfast a few minutes later, Cas watching the whole time with a quiet sort of glee inside him. They sit down across from each other at the kitchen table to eat and Cas feels a huge wave of _happy_ sweep over him, the easy familiarity between them almost intoxicating.

He’s so busy getting lost in how good he feels that he forgets what time it is. So when he hears the front door open and sees his mom walk into the kitchen, he shouldn’t be surprised, but he is.

“Mom,” Cas says, looking for all intents and purposes like a deer in headlights.

“Castiel. Dean,” she says, looking between them and squinting.

“Uh…” Dean says. “I should…go.”

Cas’s first instinct is to say no, please stay, but he decides to let rationality win this one, not making a move to stop him.

“I’ll call you later,” Dean whispers, low enough so Amelia can’t hear him. And then he’s walking past her, and Cas hears him quickly put his shoes on and walk out the front door.

“What is going on here, Castiel?” she asks, her voice blank, giving Cas no indication of what she’s thinking.

“Nothing happened,” he blurts out.

She raises her eyebrow but says nothing.

“We were watching movies last night and it got really late,” he continues. “So I told him he could sleep over. I’m sorry, I should’ve let you know.”

“I come home the morning after your first date with this boy and find you two eating breakfast together, and you expect me to believe ‘nothing happened’?”

“Well it’s true,” he says. “We watched The Blair Witch Project and the sequel if you’d like me to be more specific.”

“Castiel…you can’t just have your boyfriend sleep over while I’m not home. That’s not how it works.”

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have, but we were just…we just watched movies and went to sleep. We did the same thing before we started dating, and this time was no different.”

She sighs and rubs her forehead. “I expect you to tell me the next time you plan on having a little sleepover. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he mutters.

“Okay,” she says. “Can I check you really quick? I had a very long and trying shift and I’m tired.”

“Really? Now?”

“Yes, Castiel, now.”

He sighs and lifts his sleeves, exposing his scars to the morning air.

“Hey, uh, I kind of left my –“

And that’s when everything kind of goes to shit. It happens really slowly, but at the same time, it happens in the blink of an eye. Dean walks into the kitchen, Cas has his arms upturned, and Cas can pinpoint the exact second Dean sees. His eyes widen and his chin wobbles, and he freezes in place. Cas is so dumbstruck he doesn’t even think to pull his sleeves down; he just slowly drops his arms to his sides.

“Dean,” Cas breathes, barely audible.

“Cas?” he says, sounding confused and broken, and it’s actually _painful_ to hear.

“Dean, please get whatever you forgot and leave. Castiel will call you later,” Amelia says, sounding firm and leaving no room for interpretation.

Cas is frozen. He stares at his socked feet, his heart physically hammering against his ribcage, until he hears Dean’s footsteps retreat. He hears him go up the stairs and then come back down a minute later, and then he hears him walk back into the kitchen.

“Dean,” Amelia says. “Please.”

Cas still doesn’t look up. He hears Dean let out a shaky breath and then he turns and walks out, opening and closing the front door behind him.

“No,” Cas whispers. “ _No_.”

“Castiel…”

“Why did you have to check me? Why couldn’t you have just trusted me? This never would’ve happened if you had just _believed_ me when I said I wasn’t going to do it again!”

“I know you’re upset right now,” she starts. “But please don’t blame this on me. This was no one’s fault, Castiel.”

“This is _your_ fault,” he yells at her, even though he knows it’s not. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, in the rational center of it, he knows this is no one’s fault. It’s not her fault for making him show her, and it’s not his fault for doing it in the first place. It’s what Dr. Milton keeps drilling into him in their triweekly sessions – there’s no one at fault in this situation. It’s not about fault. It’s just the way it is. He can’t take back the cuts, so he has to accept what he’s done and move on.

But right now, with his stomach on the floor, and the look on Dean’s face burning in his mind like an open flame, it’s really easy to place blame.

“Dean is never going to – he’ll never – I can’t –“ Cas stammers out in between pants. He can _feel_ his heart jackhammering in his chest, and he places his hand on top of it to try to calm it down. “I can’t –“

Amelia puts her hands on his shoulders and squeezes in what Cas assumes is supposed to be comfort. “Castiel, take a deep breath. In, hold, out. Come on, in –“

“Don’t touch me,” he breathes, trying to get out of her grasp in his panic. “Don’t…”

“Castiel, calm down. Please, just try to breathe for me, okay? In. _In_ ,” she repeats. “Good, now hold. Hold it. Now…out. Good. Let’s do it again. In, hold, and out.”

Cas leans over and puts his hands on his knees, trying to breathe with her. She finally takes her hands off his shoulders and she seems to realize he needs space right now.

“I’m going upstairs,” he says, trying to keep his voice even. “Please don’t follow me. I want to be alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [this is what dean looks like when he watches the blair witch project](https://twitter.com/rhoward8/status/795371768282234880)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for more discussion of Cas's self-harm

Cas walks into his room and shuts the door, going straight for his phone. He picks it up and turns it on and sees that he already has three missed calls from Dean. He sighs in pain, unsure of what to feel. Just as he’s thinking about what to do, the phone starts ringing again. It’s Dean, of course. He sits there and stares at it, letting it vibrate. He doesn’t answer it. A minute later it rings again and he ignores it again.

He squeezes the phone in his hand in frustration, feeling a few tears leak out of his eyes as he does. He has no idea what to do. He lays down on his bed and places the phone on his chest, and he feels it vibrate with a text a minute later.

_please talk to me. please. i’m begging you here._

He turns onto his side, burying his face in his pillow, and he ignores the text in the same way he’s ignoring how the pillow still smells like Dean.

***

“Castiel?”

Cas opens his eyes and immediately wishes he hadn’t. It’s bright in his room, too bright, which is abnormal. He realizes belatedly that Amelia must have opened his curtains while he was asleep.

“Mm,” he groans. “Close the curtains.”

“I don’t think hiding in your dark room all day is constructive, Castiel. Why don’t you get up?”

“No,” he mutters.

“Cas.”

“Don’t call me that,” he says quickly, automatically. That’s what Dean calls him.

She doesn’t say anything for a minute, and after a beat he feels her sit down on the edge of his bed with a sigh, and she starts rubbing his back softly.

“I know you’re in pain right now. I’m sorry about that, and I’m sorry about what happened this morning.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says into his pillow.

“Okay. You don’t have to. I really think you should talk to Dean, though.”

He snorts bitterly. “Yeah? And say what? ‘Sorry you saw the scars from my past self-mutilation, please don’t break up with me because you’re the only thing that makes me want to get out of bed in the morning and I need you’?”

She sighs again and continues rubbing him gently. In the back of his mind, he appreciates it. “Say whatever you think you need to say. Explain to him what he saw. Tell him your story. You never know, he probably has a few of his own.”

“What? Scars? Dean doesn’t hurt himself.”

“I meant stories. Everyone has stories, Castiel.”

“Not like this. This is different.”

“Well, regardless. You’ll never know what he’s thinking if you don’t ask him. Give it a chance.”

He pauses and then says bluntly, “Can you go away now?”

He hears her laugh softly. “Sure thing.”

Cas sighs as she leaves and closes the door behind her. He rolls onto his back and puts his arm over his eyes and lays there for a minute, thinking about what to do next. The simplest option is to just roll back over and close his eyes until the burning picture of Dean’s hurt face is out of his mind. After a few minutes, though, he realizes he’s not going to be able to get back to sleep, so he pats around on his bed until he feels his phone beneath his fingers. He picks it up and sees that he doesn’t have any missed calls or texts since this morning, and it’s now after two. He’s not really sure what that means.

He knows he’s never going to do it if he waits, though, so he pulls up Dean’s number and quickly presses ‘call’. It only rings once before he hears an urgent voice say, “Cas?”

“Dean,” he says, his voice sounding far away even to his own ears.

Dean lets out a huge breath, like he’d been holding it for hours and just finally got some relief. “Cas…” he says through another exhale.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he says with a detached sort of air around it.

“Don’t say sorry, Cas. Don’t do that.”

“Well what do you want me to say?” he asks, absentmindedly drawing a circle on his leg with his finger.

“Nothing. I just – I don’t know. I don’t know what to do here. Tell me what I can do,” Dean says, sounding nervous and pleading, and it physically pains Cas to hear it.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Cas says sadly.

“How – how long?”

“What, you want a time frame?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t do it anymore, Dean,” he says with a sigh, before switching the phone to his other ear just for something to do. “I – I used to. A lot. And then I stopped for a while, and then I sort of…relapsed last month.”

“Last month? What happened last month?”

Cas sighs heavily again. “I don’t want to talk about this, Dean. Not like this.”

“Can I come over then?”

“What, now? No. Why?”

“To talk, Cas.”

“Dean, I don’t think that’s…” he trails off.

“Please, man. I really need to see you,” Dean says, a desperate edge to his voice.

“Dean…”

“If you – if you really don’t want me to, I won’t. But I just…please, Cas,” he nearly whispers.

“Okay,” Cas whispers back.

“Okay, I’ll be there soon,” he says decidedly, and then he quickly hangs up.

Cas sets his phone down heavily, as if it weighs a ton, and he sits there staring at the floor for a long minute. He makes himself get up eventually, because he needs to make sure his mom is actually okay with Dean coming over. She probably won’t be, and this eases Cas’s anxiety slightly because maybe then he won’t actually have to face Dean, and she can answer the door when he gets here and tell him Cas can’t see him tonight…

He sighs and stops that train of thought. No. He _has_ to face Dean. He cares about him too much to let his nasty old habit ruin what they’ve only just begun building. He has to do this.

“Mom?” he asks, knocking on her open door. She’s sitting in front of her laptop and she looks up at him when she hears his voice.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah, but I…I kind of told Dean he could come back over.”

She rubs her hands down her face tiredly. “Castiel…you really need to start clearing these things with me _before_ you do them.”

“He just wants to talk.”

She sighs. “Okay. Is he staying for dinner?”

“I don’t know. I doubt it. He’s probably gonna break up with me,” Cas says, and saying it out loud makes something in his chest _crack_. He’s sure his mom can tell by the way her face falls.

“Oh, Cassie,” she says, reverting to an old nickname she seldom uses anymore ever since he’s gotten older. She stands up and walks over to him, and wipes tears from his face that he didn’t even realize had fallen. “Dean is your best friend. I don’t think this will change that.”

“What do I do? What do I even say?” he asks, his voice pleading.

“You’ll know when you see him. You’ll figure it out, I know you will,” she says, wrapping him in a hug. He lets himself cry in her arms for a minute, until he hears the doorbell ring. His heart jumps into his throat and he pulls away from her. “It’ll be okay, Castiel. You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.”

Cas nods distractedly and takes a deep breath, and he tries to quell the panic threatening to rise in his stomach, swallowing it down like bile. He walks down the stairs slowly and wipes his eyes one more time, then opens the door.

Dean looks like hell, and Cas hates himself even more for it. _He_ did that. Dean’s hair is in disarray and his eyes are red and tired-looking and he looks pale. He looks Cas’s face over for a long moment, then abruptly pulls him into a bone crushing hug.

“Dean,” Cas says brokenly into his neck. He tries to will himself not to cry again, but he quickly loses that battle, feeling tears spill down his cheeks and onto Dean’s shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” Dean says fiercely.

Cas pulls away and looks down at the floor, trying to avoid Dean’s eyes, but Dean takes his chin in his hand and slowly tilts his face up, just like he did right before their first kiss. The difference in the two situations almost makes Cas want to laugh. He quickly sobers up, though, when he sees the single tear running down Dean’s cheek. _Shit_.

“Dean,” Cas repeats, his heart physically aching. He rubs at the tear with his thumb, then leans forward and rests his forehead against Dean’s, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath. “Please don’t be upset. Please.”

“Let’s go upstairs,” Dean says. He takes Cas’s hand in his and they walk upstairs and into Cas’s room, and Cas closes the door behind them. Dean walks over to Cas’s bed and sits on the edge, his hands on his face. Cas walks up to him and gets on his knees, kneeling between Dean’s open legs.

“I’m sorry,” Cas starts. Dean is about to interrupt him, but Cas gently puts his hand over his mouth. “Let me finish. I’m sorry you had to see it like that. That’s not how I intended for you to find out.”

“How did you expect me to find out? Were you ever gonna tell me?”

“Well…I don’t know,” Cas says honestly. “To answer that, I’d have to tell you how long I expected us to be together.”

Dean furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I could say I was never gonna tell you, but then that implies that I didn’t expect us to last. Because if we were, then technically, you’d _have_ to find out at some point. Right?”

“…I guess?” Dean says, looking a little lost.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to say this in a way that makes sense,” Cas says, looking down at Dean’s chest to avoid his eyes. “I do want us to last, Dean. More than…more than anything,” he whispers. “But I still didn’t want you to find out. I would do anything to take back you walking into that kitchen.”

“Well I did, Cas. So don’t think about that. Let’s just think about…where we go from here,” Dean says.

“Okay,” Cas mutters. He warily places his hands on Dean’s knees, gauging his reaction to make sure he’s still allowed. When Dean doesn’t push him away, he relaxes incrementally.

“Do you still do it?” Dean asks in a small voice.

“No.”

“Do you want to still do it?”

“Yes.”

Dean sighs and places his hands over Cas’s, lightly trailing over them with the tips of his fingers. “Why don’t you?”

“My mom checks my body. That’s why I had my sleeves up this morning. She checks my arms and my stomach and my legs to make sure I’m not doing it. Not to mention she’s thrown away every sharp thing we own.”

“So if she didn’t check you, you’d still be doing it?”

“I…I don’t know, Dean. Maybe.”

Dean nods and looks at Cas’s chest, still playing with his hands.

“Can I see them?” he asks after a minute.

“What? No. Of course not.” Dean looks up into Cas’s eyes then, the question still sitting on his face. “Dean, no. You can’t ask me that.”

“I just want to protect you, Cas,” he says softly. “I never thought I’d have to protect you from yourself, but…here we are.”

“You don’t have to protect me, Dean.”

“I want to. You’re not just my boyfriend, you’re my _best_ friend. I just want to keep you safe.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve only done it once in the past three years. Just once, last month.”

“Will you tell me what happened?”

Cas sighs, loosely weaving their fingers together, in and out. “I just had a bad month. I have depression, so it happens,” he says. “I just happened to see a pair of scissors when I was having a particularly difficult moment.”

Dean winces a little as he says it, but he makes no other indication that he heard; he just stares down at where their hands are still idly playing with each other.

“Is this why you see your doctor so often?”

“Yeah,” Cas says. “Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after school. It’s been helping me, but…I’m still working on it, Dean. I’m still trying to fight it. It’s hard. The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, actually. But I’m trying.”

Dean nods, but he still looks pained.

“You help, Dean,” Cas tries.

“I don’t want you to do it for me, Cas,” he says, sounding almost angry. “I want you to do it for you.”

“Well I’m sorry, but I’m not there yet.”

Dean sighs. “Right.”

“Dean, listen,” Cas says. “If this is too much for you, we…we can stop.” Cas hates himself the moment the words leave his mouth, feeling almost nauseated from how much he doesn’t want to have said them, but being unable to be the thing putting Dean in so much pain.

Dean jerks his head up at that and rips his hands away from Cas’s. “What?”

“I’d understand,” he says softly. “If you want to –“

“Cas. No. Don’t…don’t say that. Okay? Just don’t.”

“I can’t stand to see you like this, Dean,” Cas says. “And it’s my fault. I can’t be the thing putting you in pain.”

“Then don’t try to break up with me,” he says bitterly.

“Dean –“

“We can work through this, Cas. I mean…do you – if that’s what you want,” he says, his voice small and heartbreaking.

“Of course I do. I l – I – I care about you, Dean. More than anything,” he says, stumbling over his words and almost saying something he was sure to regret. “I just don’t want to hurt you. I’d never forgive myself.”

“You’re getting help, though. You can still do that and we’ll just…keep doing what we’re doing. Just, now, if you’re having a hard time, or a bad day, you have one more person you can talk about it with. Okay?”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Maybe it can be.”

Cas sighs and leans forward, resting his forehead on Dean’s knee. “Can we just…lay here? I’m so tired, Dean,” he says without looking up.

Dean picks Cas’s hand up in his and stands up, walking them to the head of the bed. He lays down and Cas gets in beside him, before turning on his side and burying his face in the crook of Dean’s neck.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Dean says, rubbing Cas's back, up and down.

Cas isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for briefly mentioned self-harm

Cas and Dean are extra clingy for the next few days. They refuse to unlink their hands, keeping them tightly interlocked from the moment they see each other until the moment they absolutely have to get to class if they don’t want to be late. They kiss for a little longer than what is probably necessary whenever they separate. They cuddle a little too possessively on one of their couches after school. They cling to each other as if it’s the last time they’ll get to do it.

It’s gross and it’s sappy and it’s cheesy, but Cas doesn’t care about that. He likes being close to Dean, that’s not the problem. The problem is that he’s worried Dean’s only doing it to coddle him. He’s worried that Dean thinks he needs to tiptoe around him now ever since he found out about Cas’s self-harm. It’s kind of become the elephant in the room, neither of them really wanting to bring it up again but still being aware of the impact it’s having on them.

Cas cares about Dean, though. More than he ever thought possible. He doesn’t want to mess up what they have before it’s barely begun. So he decides to take the more sensible option of just _talking_ to him rather than pretending the problem doesn’t exist and ignoring it forever, like a sensible and responsible adult or something.

He decides to bring it up one day while they’re in the library during lunch (for the fourth day in a row). They never really talked about it, they both just automatically started going to the old spot they frequented when Dean had just moved here and they first became friends. It gives them a more intimate environment to be in together where they don’t have to talk to anyone, or even each other, and they can just sit with each other in a comfortable silence. And if one of them has something to say, they can just press their lips to the other’s ear and whisper it softly against their skin. It works.

“Dean,” Cas murmurs. He places his hand on top of Dean’s where it’s resting on the table and gently ghosts his fingers across his knuckles.

“Hm?” he asks, not looking up from where he’s reading his book for English.

“We need to talk,” he says. Those words are notorious for being the beginning of bad conversations, and Cas sends up a silent prayer that this won’t be one of them.

Dean looks up from his book and shuts it after folding down the corner of his current page. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” he trails off with a sigh. “I know we’ve kind of been ignoring it, but ever since, you know, you found out…I feel like things have been different.”

Dean blinks and pauses for a moment, then he sighs too. “Yeah, I know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not doing it on purpose or anything, but I have noticed that things have been a little…intense between us.”

“Dean,” Cas implores, looking deep into his eyes. “The last thing I want is for you to feel like you have to be careful or tiptoe around me or something. My mom did it for like six months when she first found out and it nearly drove me out of my mind. I can’t take that from you too.”

“I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining about how close we’ve gotten. I like being close to you. It’s just the why that I have a problem with.”

“I just feel like I want to…take care of you or something.” Cas inhales and is about to interrupt him when he puts his hand up and says, “I know. I know you don’t want me to do that, nor do you _need_ me to do that. I can’t help it though.”

“I mean, I guess I get where you’re coming from, because I’d probably feel the same way were our positions reversed, but…I’m fine, Dean. Well, as fine as I can be. I’m not doing it, so it’s not like you have to watch me and turn a blind eye or something.”

“I know. I know. I’ll try, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry, Cas,” he says easily, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re still a nerd. And I have no intention of letting you forget that.”

Cas snorts and leans in to peck him on the lips. “Deal.”

“Oh, _now_ I see why you guys have ditched us every day for the past week,” Charlie’s voice says from above them. They pull away from each other and look up at her guiltily.

“Hi, Charlie,” Dean says.

“Hi,” she replies, before pulling out the heavy chair across from them and sliding into it. “Long time no see.”

“Sorry,” Cas mumbles. “We, um…”

“I know, I know. You’re in a new relationship and you want ‘alone time’. I get it.”

“We actually did have a reason for staying in here this week,” Cas says, trying to explain without actually explaining. “But that’s, um, over now. We’ll be back at our table tomorrow.”

She pauses. “You know what, I don’t even want to know.”

***

“Cas, if I tell you something, do you promise not to make a big deal out of it?”

“Uh, depends on what it is.”

Dean sighs dramatically and looks away, avoiding Cas’s eyes. “Tomorrow’s my birthday,” he finally says.

Cas feels a wide grin spread slowly on his face, his eyes lighting up. “Really?”

“See, I knew I shouldn’t have told you,” Dean mutters, shaking his head.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“We’re not celebrating,” Dean says, pointing at Cas sternly with his index finger.

“Yes we are.”

“No.”

“Dean, you can’t just not celebrate your eighteenth birthday.”

“Ten bucks says you didn’t do anything for yours.”

“…Maybe,” Cas mumbles. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you do the same.”

“Caaaaas,” Dean whines.

“Ten bucks says if we were dating on my birthday you would’ve forced me to do something with you.”

“Ugh,” Dean groans, unwillingly acquiescing. “Fine. Whatever. You win.”

Cas kisses him in response. “We don’t have to do something extravagant. We can just go to dinner or something. I’m not saying I’m gonna throw you a big surprise party.”

Dean barks out a laugh at that. “You throwing a party…now there’s a sight I’d like to see.”

“Quiet, or else I might just do it,” Cas warns.

***

Cas still doesn’t know what to do for Dean’s birthday. He’s gone over seemingly every option, from an actual party to a simple dinner with his family. He’s not sure what Dean would want the most, aside from the obvious choice of nothing. It’s not like he even has much time to plan something, but he can’t just do _nothing_.

As he’s lying in bed that night, going through his options for the following day one last time, he ultimately decides to just go with a simple date. He’ll get a reservation at a nice restaurant and they can see a movie of Dean’s choosing, and just hang out together. Something a little special and a little mundane is what Cas would secretly want for his birthday, so he hopes that it’ll maybe be good for Dean too.

**Dinner and a movie for tomorrow? Too much? Too little?**

_about that…_

**What?**

_my mom wants us to have dinner with her and sammy_

**Me and you?**

_yeah_

**Oh. Okay. That sounds nice?**

_you don’t have to_

**No, I want to. It’s your birthday.**

_thanks cas_

**No problem. Also, it’s after midnight, so happy birthday, Dean. You make me very happy. <3**

_thanks. i kinda like you too. only a little bit though._

_< 3_

***

Cas is nervous.

He’s met Mary Winchester before, but this is…different. He’s pretty sure she knew the morning they met her at the diner in town, the morning after they spent the night in the motel, that they were together, but this is a lot more official and for some reason, even more scary.

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean says, for the third time, while they’re walking home together. “It’ll be fine. She’s already met you and she already likes you.”

“What? Did she say that? When?”

Dean looks over at Cas with fondness in his eyes. “Yes, she said that. She said, and I quote, ‘that little guy with the constant bedhead you hang out with a lot seems nice. Short, and dorky, but nice’.”

Cas blinks and looks at Dean in disapproval. “What did she _really_ say, smart ass?”

Dean snorts. “She just said she’s looking forward to seeing you again, okay? It’s gonna be fine. Trust me.”

They reach the point in their walk then where they have to separate to go to their respective houses.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” Cas says, squeezing Dean’s hand. He leans in to kiss him, catching his bottom lip between his own. “Happy birthday, Dean,” he says against his mouth, a smile spreading wide on his face of its own accord.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. “See you later.”

***

Cas decides to wear the same black button-down he wore on Thanksgiving to Dean’s birthday dinner. He also considers, briefly, not putting on eyeliner, but in the end he decides that he wants Mary to like him for him, and that includes makeup and piercings and all black and everything.

He takes a deep breath once he steps in front of Mary’s door and rings the doorbell on the side of the wall. It opens a second later and he’s met with the sight of Dean standing there with an easy grin on his face.

“Hi,” Dean says, smile still shining.

“You don’t look nervous,” Cas notices with a shaky breath.

“Well you look nervous enough for the both of us.”

Cas huffs quietly. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Cas,” Dean says, walking into his personal space and placing his hands on Cas’s lower back. “It’s gonna be fine, seriously. There’s nothing not to like about you.”

Cas rolls his eyes, but is secretly preening. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean leans in and presses a quick kiss to Cas’s cheek. “Let’s go,” he says, bringing one hand up to hold Cas’s, ushering him in the door and closing it behind them.

They walk into the kitchen and Cas sees Mary hovering over a stove, her back to them.

“Mom, you remember Castiel,” Dean says, squeezing Cas’s hand in comfort.

Cas feels a strange sensation at hearing Dean call him by his full name, but he’s quickly distracted from that train of thought when Mary turns around.

“Of course,” she says, a warm smile on her face. She walks up to them and takes Cas’s free hand in hers and squeezes reassuringly, surprising him slightly. “It’s nice to see you again, Castiel. Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” he says shyly.

“Of course,” she says again, dropping his hand. “Dinner should be ready in about ten minutes.”

“Sounds good,” Dean says. He turns around and pulls Cas by their still-joined hands into the living room, where Sam is currently sat on the couch watching something Cas doesn’t really recognize. He thinks it looks like one of those superhero movies Dean made him watch one time.

“Hello, Sam,” Cas says.

Sam looks up at them at the sound of his voice, then down to their interlocked hands. He smirks and says, “You guys are gross.”

“You’re just jealous because you’re too chickenshit to ask out Jess.”

Sam immediately turns red. “Shut up, Dean,” he says through gritted teeth.

Cas smiles affectionately. “Who’s Jess?” he asks with a lilt, knowing Sam is embarrassed but being unable to stop himself from teasing him with Dean.

“No one, okay?” he mutters.

“If you like someone, I would recommend telling them. Dean and I did, and we’re very happy. Right, Dean?” Cas says, looking up at Dean like he hung the moon.

Dean looks down and avoids Cas’s face. “I guess,” he says, his voice low. A blush spreads on his cheeks and Cas chuckles fondly at the two of them, the penchant to be embarrassed about their crush apparently a hereditary thing. Cas still feels a wave of shock hit him, though, that _he’s_ Dean’s crush, but that’s beside the point.

Dean and Cas sit down on the couch next to Sam and watch the movie (The Avengers, Dean helpfully supplies) for a few minutes until Mary calls them into the dining room.

“I hope you like spaghetti, Castiel,” Mary says as she puts plates down in front of the three of them. “I made plenty of extras if you’d like to take some home with you.”

“That sounds very nice. Thank you,” Cas says appreciatively. “My mom works the night shift, so she doesn’t always have time for dinner. And I have a little sister who, uh, doesn’t like my cooking very much,” he says with a chuckle.

“You cook?” Dean asks.

“I’ve made you two pies, Dean,” Cas says to him, twirling his fork through the noodles on his plate.

“Oh. Right. But still, that’s baking.”

“Well regardless. I do attempt to cook sometimes.”

“So you live with your mom and your little sister?” Mary asks, addressing Cas.

“Yes,” Cas says with a nod.

“Do you mind if I ask where your father is?”

“Mom,” Dean says, furrowing his brow and pursing his lips in a silent request to _not_.

“It’s okay. Uh, your guess is as good as mine. I don’t know where my father is. We’re not in contact,” Cas says, the words feeling slightly robotic coming out of his mouth.

“Oh,” Mary says, her pretty face falling a little. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Dean looks at Cas in slight shock. “I didn’t know that,” he says quietly. Cas feels him slide his fingers in between Cas’s under the table and they both squeeze.

“It’s okay,” Cas says. “I haven’t seen him in a very long time.”

“We can talk about something else,” Mary says, and Cas looks at her gratefully. “How long have you two been together?”

“Mom!” Dean says, sounding shocked and put out.

“It’s just a simple question, Dean,” she says neutrally, but the playful smile on her face gives away her little game.

“Um, we’ve been together for about two weeks. We’ve been friends since you guys moved here, though.”

“Yeah, Cas is in this mentor group thing, and he was ‘assigned’ to me on my first day. He forced me to let him show me around and stuff.”

“And then I asked if I could sit with you two at lunch and you said no.”

“Dean,” Mary reprimands. “That’s not very nice.”

“Well look what it’s turned into,” Cas teases, affectionately bopping Dean on the nose. “Lucky you.”

Mary looks between them and smiles, and Cas looks down at his food to avoid her gaze and he tries not to blush. “I hear Dean has been tutoring you, Castiel. How is that going?” she asks, changing the subject.

“Mom,” Dean complains, sounding for all intents and purposes like a whining little boy.

“I’m surprised you told her that,” Cas says honestly.

“I didn’t,” Dean says. “ _That_ one did.”

Sam smiles, spaghetti sauce covering his boyish teeth. “You’re welcome.”

“Dean is, for whatever reason, embarrassed about being smart,” Mary says, shaking her head fondly.

“I know!” Cas says emphatically. “I don’t understand it.”

“Can we talk about something else please?” Dean grumbles.

“I never answered her question, Dean,” Cas says. He squeezes Dean’s hand in a slight apology, though, before saying, “It’s going very well. Dean’s been helping me mostly in Calculus and a little in Physics, and my grades are very thankful for it. As am I, and as is my mother.”

Dean stuffs a too-big bite of spaghetti in his mouth. “You’re welcome,” he says with a mocking grin.

“Dean,” Mary admonishes.

“He does that,” Cas says.

Sam accidentally drops his fork then, and he reaches down to pick it up before suddenly saying, “Gross!”

“What?” Mary asks, surprised. “Is there a bug?”

“No, Dean and Cas are holding hands under the table. _Gross_.”

They both blush, but neither makes a move to unlink their hands.

“Sammy’s just jealous,” Dean says with a smirk. “Let’s talk about that. How is sweet little Jessica, Sam?”

“Dean,” Sam warns.

“Oh,” Mary coos, her eyes lighting up, “who’s Jessica?”

“ _No one_.”

“Sammy’s got a crush,” Dean says in a singsong voice.

“So do you,” Sam argues.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Sam,” Cas says, trying to comfort him. “You should tell her how you feel.”

“You should tell her how _you_ feel,” he says, twirling his fork and sulking.

Cas snorts unattractively at his very Dean-like response, and at how similarly Dean and Sam act when they’re uncomfortable.

“Okay, everyone, let’s take it easy on the boy,” Mary says, before leaning over and ruffling Sam’s hair good-naturedly, and he bats her hand away. “So Castiel,” she says. “This is your last semester of high school. Do you know what you plan to do after you graduate?”

Cas feels a wave of anxious energy wash over him. This is a conversation Dean and Cas haven’t even had yet, in regards to their plans for college.

“Um, well, my mom made me apply to a few colleges last semester. I haven’t heard back yet, though.” He squeezes Dean’s hand and says nervously, “What about you, Dean?”

“I applied to a few, too,” he says quietly.

“Do you know what you would want to study?” she asks.

“I have no idea,” Cas says honestly.

Dean belatedly squeezes his hand back and looks over at him, saying, “Don’t worry, I don’t either,” and it eases Cas’s mind somewhat.

They finish eating soon after, and the boys head into the living room at Mary’s request, pretending not to know she’s going to pull a birthday cake out. A few minutes later, she innocently pops her head into the living room and says, “Dean? Could you come in here for a second?”

Dean sighs. “Here we go.”

They all walk back into the kitchen and the lights are turned out, the only light in the room coming from the candles lit on top of a large cake. Dean smiles self-consciously while they sing Happy Birthday to him, and then he ceremoniously pauses, making a wish, before blowing out his candles.

“Thanks, mom,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck but being unable to stop a grin from spreading on his face.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” Cas says, kissing him on the cheek quickly and rubbing his hand down his back.

Mary cuts the cake for them then and they all take a piece back into the living room and catch the end of The Avengers on TV.

Once they’re done, Cas and Sam take the plates into the kitchen for all of them and wash up.

“Cas?” Sam says while they’re standing at the sink, sounding slightly nervous.

“Yes?”

“Listen. I know I tease you guys for being gross and stuff, because you are,” he says, and Cas chuckles. “But…I just wanted to say thank you. I’ve never seen Dean like this. He’s never been _happy_ like this. And that’s because of you. So…thank you.”

“Oh,” Cas says, trying not to get overwhelmed. “That’s, um…it’s my pleasure.”

“He told me he probably never would’ve called our mom either if it wasn’t for you, and you don’t…you don’t even know what that means. This is the best thing that’s ever happened to us, living with her. So thank you. For everything.” Sam pulls him into a hug and Cas is too shocked to hug him back, and Sam pulls away before he can do anything. “But tell Dean I said any of this and I’ll deny it,” he says with a wink.

Cas snorts. “It’s our little secret. But, um, thank you. Dean makes me very happy, as well.”

“Good.”

“And listen, Sam, if you really do like this Jessica person…”

“Stop,” Sam cuts him off. “No. Nope. We’re not going there.”

When they’re done with the dishes, they walk back into the living room and find Mary with her arm around Dean and Dean cuddled up to her side as she rubs small circles on his shoulder. Cas smiles warmly at the sight of them, but when Dean notices them he quickly sits up and straightens himself.

“You ready to go, Cas?” he asks gruffly.

“Yes.”

“No more sleepovers without a phone call this time, you hear?” Mary says.

Cas blushes and says, “Of course. Sorry about that. My mom said no more sleepovers, anyway.”

She smiles and stands up, turning toward Dean. “I won’t give you a curfew since it’s your birthday, but please just…keep me in the loop. Okay?”

“Sure,” Dean says.

“It was very nice to see you again, Castiel. We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“Thank you,” Cas says bashfully. “I’d like that.”

“See you later,” Dean says as he shrugs his jacket on and grabs his keys, opening the door.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” Mary calls after them. Dean yells a ‘thanks!’ back at her and then they’re on their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hit 50k words! that's very exciting to me :D thank you for your support in the form of comments and kudos, it means the absolute world to me. i hope you've been enjoying the direction this is going <3


	26. Chapter 26

They drive for almost twenty minutes in comfortable silence, Cas curled up against Dean’s side while he slowly and idly laces and unlaces their fingers together. He closes his eyes at one point and relaxes completely, nearly falling asleep on Dean’s shoulder.

“Cas,” Dean says softly near his ear a number of minutes later. “We’re here.”

“Where’s ‘here’?” Cas asks, not opening his eyes.

“The park.”

“The park?” Cas repeats, opening his eyes and rubbing them tiredly.

“Yeah, I thought we could, I don’t know, watch the stars or something,” Dean says. Cas sees a blush spread wide on his cheeks, then he smacks his forehead on the steering wheel. “Oh God, that sounded so much cheesier out loud. I’m sorry.”

Cas chuckles softly and smiles up at him. “Dean, that sounds great.”

Dean checks his face, presumably to make sure he’s being honest, and lets out a small breath when he must find what he’s looking for. “Yeah?” Cas nods. “Okay. Awesome. I brought a blanket so we can lay down. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Cas says, leaning up and kissing him softly. “It’s perfect.”

They get out of the car and Cas looks around at their surroundings. They’re in an open field of grass in the middle of the park in town, and it’s completely devoid of people. It looks dark and desolate in the late hour of the night, different from how Cas assumes it looks during the day. Deans opens the trunk, pulling out a big, fluffy grey blanket and Cas leans against the hood of the car while Dean smooths it out on the ground. He sits down and pats the spot next to him, looking up at Cas with a shy smile on his face.

“Sit with me?” he asks, sounding inexplicably nervous for reasons Cas doesn’t know. Cas smiles back at him, though, and sits down next to him on the blanket, pressing the left side of his body up against Dean’s right. He leans his head on Dean’s shoulder and Dean puts his arm around him, pulling him in tight.

“This is nice,” Cas murmurs, closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around Dean’s middle.

“Yeah. Thanks for tonight, Cas,” Dean says, squeezing Cas’s shoulder. “It was nice, having you there and everything.”

“It went pretty well, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “It did.”

“How has it been, living with your mom? Has it been going okay? Your brother seems very happy,” Cas says.

He feels Dean shift a little beside him, then he sighs heavily. “Can I be honest about something?”

“Of course.”

“I’m scared, Cas,” he whispers, the soft words sounding almost loud in the silence of the night around them.

Cas turns his head at that and looks up at Dean, frowning. “Why are you scared? Do you still think she’ll change her mind?”

“Yeah. I can’t help it. I know you said that good things happen, and I’m trying, but I…I can’t shake this feeling.”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas says with a frown, lifting his hand up and stroking Dean’s cheek. “I wish I could help you.”

Dean sighs and puts his hand over Cas’s, lacing their fingers together. “You do help.”

Cas smiles and brings their hands up to his mouth, kissing the skin on the underside of Dean’s wrist. “So do you,” he says softly.

Dean lays down then, bringing Cas down with him by their joined hands. They lie side by side, their hands gripping each other tightly.

“I think I see Cassiopeia,” Dean says after a minute of silence.

Cas snorts and looks over at him skeptically. “Oh, do you? Or did you just learn the name of a constellation that sounds like Castiel to be cute?”

“I’m a Renaissance man, Cas, I know things,” he says. “I am cute, though.”

“Yeah, you know what, I see it too. Riiiiight…there,” he says, rolling over onto his side and pointing at Dean’s cheek with his finger.

“Huh?” Dean says, looking comically confused, his eyes crossing as he looks down at Cas’s finger.

Cas giggles and pokes Dean in the face, drawing imaginary lines across his cheeks. “Your freckles. I see many constellations in them, Dean.”

Dean blinks. “You are the dorkiest person I’ve ever met. And I’ve met Sam Winchester. You get that, right?”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

Dean snorts and leans over, kissing him quiet. Cas puts his hand on Dean’s chest and rests it over his heart, while Dean places his hand on Cas’s hip and squeezes. It’s a gentle kiss, like most of the ones they’ve shared up until this point, just their lips pressed delicately against each other, but then Cas feels Dean’s mouth open under his. His heart picks up speed, but he doesn’t stop him. He keeps his mouth closed, but when he feels Dean start to move his tongue along Cas’s bottom lip, Cas gasps and his mouth opens in surprise, and then suddenly he feels Dean’s tongue slowly slide in against his own. It’s an interesting sensation, and it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. It’s somehow at the same time the most awkward and the most content he’s ever felt. He tries to remind himself that this is _Dean_ , though. Dean’s tongue and Dean’s lips around his own, and that he’s safe with him, and Dean would never push him into anything.

So he kisses him, and he keeps kissing him, trading soft presses of lips and gentle sweeps of tongue, not stopping until they have to pause for a breath. They finally pull apart after a few minutes and press their foreheads together, breathing heavily in each other’s space and trying to come back to themselves.

“That was nice,” Cas says, panting slightly.

“Yeah,” Dean chuckles, squeezing Cas’s hip. “It was.”

“We’ve never done that before,” Cas says, still feeling a little bit out of it.

“We haven’t. So what did you think?”

“It was…interesting,” Cas says, not really knowing what else to say.

Dean snorts and leans in to peck him on the lips. “We don’t have to do it again if you don’t want to,” he says, an inch away from Cas’s mouth.

“We don’t?” Cas asks, sounding more surprised than he means to.

Dean pulls away, looking at Cas with something akin to anger in his eyes, which confuses Cas. “Of course not,” he says. “I know you’re ace, Cas. We don’t have to do anything.”

“Oh,” Cas says, deflating.

“I’m not askin’ for anything more here. You told me like a week after I met you, so I knew what I was getting into.”

“Can I ask you something?” Cas says, changing the subject.

“Uh, shoot,” Dean says, looking slightly wary.

“How long have you liked me?”

Dean snorts and his face relaxes. “I’d say about a week after I met you,” he says again.

Cas feels his entire face light up. “Really?” he asks, with a disbelieving smile.

“Duh,” Dean says, looking shy and adorable. “Why, how long have you liked me?”

“About the same.”

“We’re idiots,” Dean says, shaking his head. “We could’ve been together this whole time.”

“You’re the idiot,” Cas says. “You’re the one who slow danced with me at Homecoming then proceeded to act like nothing happened.”

Dean laughs loudly at that and Cas watches him with gooey admiration in his eyes. “I already apologized for that.”

“Yeah well I’m still mad.”

“I’m sorry,” he whines like a little boy. “Forgive me?” he asks, before leaning in and kissing Cas slowly. When they finally pull apart, Cas feels lightheaded.

“You’re forgiven. I guess,” he mutters.

Dean smiles and kisses him on his cheek, then his nose, then his forehead. Cas starts giggling and shuts his eyes, then Dean kisses him on each eyelid. Cas rolls over onto his back, still laughing, and Dean moves on top of him. He’s on top of him, but for some reason, Cas isn’t scared, because it’s not overbearing or domineering in the slightest. It’s just _Dean_. He continues to innocently kiss him all over his face, and when he moves down to his neck, it should be scary, or weird, or too much, but it isn’t. It’s sweet and chaste, the feather light presses of Dean’s lips against his skin. This is much preferable to the feeling of Dean’s tongue in his mouth. He continues to involuntarily let out small huffs of laughter as Dean keeps softly kissing his face and his neck, and it’s probably the happiest he can remember ever feeling. Wow.

Dean pulls back and looks at him, looking deep into his eyes and down at the smile still sitting on his face. He reaches down and pulls something out of his pocket, and when he puts his phone in front of Cas’s face and Cas hears a _click_ , he becomes laughably confused.

“What was that?” he asks with a frown.

“You kinda look really cute right now.”

“Did you take a picture of me, Dean?”

“Yes,” he says, pressing his screen a few times, before turning it over and showing Cas. He sees a picture of himself, laying down on a fuzzy grey blanket, stars reflected in his eyes and a soft smile on his face. He looks… _happy_. He almost looks drunk. He honestly doesn’t really recognize himself.

“Wait…did you make that your wallpaper? _Dean_.” Cas can practically _feel_ his heart swelling in size.

“Don’t make fun of me. This is all your fault. I was never like this before I met you,” he mutters, before getting off of Cas and laying back down next to him.

“ _Sap_. The sappiest sap to ever sap,” Cas says with a smile, before putting his hand down and lacing their fingers together. Dean’s words really register then, though, and he has a thought that he for some reason thinks is a good idea to voice out loud. “Dean. Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” he asks in a small voice, not really sure why he’s asking. He hears Dean sigh next to him and he brings their hands up, lacing and unlacing their fingers absentmindedly.

“You really wanna talk about this now?”

“You don’t have to. I was just curious.”

“I have,” he says quietly. “Once.”

“Oh,” Cas says, unsure of how to feel about that. His initial gut reaction is _mine_ , but he tries to reign that train of thought in before it gets out of hand. He doesn’t own Dean.

“You wanna know something funny? Guess what her name was.”

“I don’t know, Dean.”

“ _Cassie_.”

Cas involuntarily lets out a laugh at that. “Seriously? I really hope you never called her Cas.”

“I don’t think I did,” he chuckles.

“My mom used to call me Cassie. I’d appreciate it if you never did, for obvious reasons.”

Dean snorts. “You got it.”

“So what happened?” he asks, still not sure why he wants to know.

“Um, we were together for a couple months last year, but then my dad had to move for work, and we didn’t really see the point of trying a long distance thing.”

“Oh.” Cas is hit then with the sudden realization of how close he came to never meeting Dean. It hits him like a train, out of nowhere, and even though he feels a burning hatred inside for Dean’s father after what he did to him, he also feels wholly indebted to him for bringing him here to Cas.

“I’m very happy you moved here, Dean,” he says in a small voice. It’s the kind of thing he’d shout from the rooftops if he could, but he can’t make himself say it any louder. The words don’t have nearly the impact Cas wishes they could.

Dean just squeezes Cas’s hand, though, and says, “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't the only conversation dean and cas will have about cas's asexuality and how it will impact their relationship, but i didn't think it fit the scene to have a big in depth talk about it right here :)


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for self-harm
> 
> I want to bring attention to the depression tag for this chapter. I'm not trying to write angst for the sake of angst here, i'm trying to convey depression in a way that I've experienced in my life and how it affects every aspect of your life and all of your relationships. so i'm hoping that that comes across in here and it doesn't just read like a random bout of angst in the middle of a bunch of fluff. As always thank you for reading.

Cas isn’t really sure how it happens. One day, he’s sitting with Dean, Charlie, and Lisa at lunch, holding Dean’s hand under the table, laughing at something Charlie said, feeling _happy_ , and the next day, he’s staring at the cafeteria wall, the sound of Lisa’s shrill and excited voice grating on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard and the feeling of Dean’s hand rubbing against his making his skin crawl.

“Cas,” Dean says into his ear. He squeezes his hand and Cas flinches. He turns his head and looks into Dean’s eyes, the fear and uneasiness in them making him feel sick to his stomach. “You okay?” he murmurs.

“I’m fine,” he says, his voice sounding miles away even to his own ears.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m _fine_ , Dean,” he snaps, making Charlie and Lisa stop their conversation and look over at them in surprise. Cas drops Dean’s hand, the touch of his skin making him feel even worse. He doesn’t miss the hurt and confused look Dean gives him out of the corner of his eye. “I’m going to the library,” he says, standing up from the table and avoiding Dean’s eyes. “I have to study.” It’s obviously a lie, but no one calls him on it.

Dean doesn’t follow him.

***

Cas still walks home with Dean later that day. He doesn’t think he can avoid it without actually inciting worry in him, and the last thing he wants is to have to _talk_ about this with him. So he holds his hand like he always does, even though the touch of it feels like holding onto an open flame, and he says he’s just tired the three times Dean asks him if he’s okay. When they reach the point where they have to separate, Cas pauses. Dean turns to kiss him, but Cas avoids his lips and wraps him in a hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into his ear, then he turns and quickly walks away without looking at him. He’s pretty sure if he has to see the concern written all over his face he’ll do something embarrassing, like cry or something.

But he doesn’t cry. He doesn’t cry even when he’s home with his door closed and his head buried in his hands. He doesn’t cry when he gets a text from Dean saying _i’m here for you, cas. you can talk to me about anything, i hope you know that_. He doesn’t cry when he pulls the scissors he hid back in December out from under his pillow. He doesn’t cry when he drags the sharp edge across the very top of his thigh, the one place on his body Amelia doesn’t see.

He doesn’t cry.

***

Cas doesn’t know what it is about Dr. Milton, but there’s something about her that puts him at ease. He feels safe with her. He feels like he can talk to her in a way he can’t with anyone else. That’s not to mention the fact that she’s obligated to keep everything he tells her to herself, which is a big plus. He considers himself lucky, though, because he knows it’s not always easy to find a therapist you connect with so well. He’s extra eager to get into her office today, the need to _talk_ burning like a spark under his skin.

So he walks through the cold rain at a brisk pace, trying to get to his appointment on time. He belatedly realizes there’s no need to rush – he reminds himself that she’s always running late. He mostly just wants to get inside a dry, heated building. When he finally gets there, he rushes inside and folds his umbrella up, shaking out the rainwater.

“Hi, Castiel!” Becky chirps from behind her desk.

Cas turns around and faces her. “Hello, Becky,” he says. He gratefully sits down on one of the empty chairs and lets out a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy.

When he’s in Dr. Milton’s office a little bit later, he stares at the painting behind her desk that was troubling him a few months ago.

“Feeling any better about the painting, Castiel?” Dr. Milton asks. He looks at her and can tell from her face that she’s just teasing him.

“Working on it,” he says with a shy smile.

“So,” she says. “How have you been?”

“Well, uh, not good,” he chuckles. He rubs the back of his neck, and that makes him think of Dean, and thinking of Dean makes him think of Dean’s face this afternoon, and oh, maybe he _is_ going to cry.

“No? What’s going on?” she asks sympathetically.

“I’m so _tired_ of this. I’m so tired of everything. I was _happy_. I was doing so much better and then I just…woke up wrong. How does that even happen? It’s not fair,” he says, pulling at his hair.

“Castiel, tell me what’s going on. Did something happen?”

“No, I just said…I woke up wrong. I woke up today and I didn’t want to listen to the sound of my friends’ voices, and I didn’t want to hold my boyfriend’s hand. I can’t – I can’t do this anymore. It’s not fair.”

He hears her sigh. “I know,” she says softly. “I know. I’m sorry, Castiel.”

“I did it again.”

“Oh,” she murmurs. “I thought your mother was checking you to make sure you didn’t.”

“I did it right here,” he says, pointing to the area on the top of his thighs that’s always covered by his boxers, “where she wouldn’t see.”

She sighs again and avoids his eyes. Cas is pretty sure she’s struggling for something to say, and it’s quite a sight to see. Someone who gets paid to talk not knowing what to say. “Relapse is a part of recovery, Castiel,” she finally ends up saying.

“Don’t,” he says, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead tiredly. “Please don’t try to rationalize this. Just say it. I’m just…I’m never gonna get better.”

“No, I won’t say that, because it’s not true.”

Cas sets his elbows on his knees and leans forward, putting his face in his hands. “I feel like such a failure,” he says, his voice quivering.

“You’re not,” she says softly.

He feels his eyes finally well up and he’s one part relieved that he’s actually getting to _feel_ his feelings, and another part embarrassed, because crying is supposed to be this private thing, not something someone sits there and watches you do. He keeps his face hidden in his hands and he hears her pull a tissue out of the box on her desk. He puts his hand out without lifting his head and waits until she puts it in his grip, then brings it up to his eyes, wiping slowly.

“What do I do?” he asks pathetically. “I can’t do this anymore. I _can’t_.”

“Okay,” she says, taking a deep breath and clapping her hands on her thighs. “I’d say in regards to the cutting, make your mother check you naked if she has to.” He raises his head, about to heatedly refuse, but she puts her hand up to stop him. “I know. I know that’s the _last_ thing you want to do, but we have to do something, Castiel. If there’s an area she’s not checking, you have no reason to stop yourself when you reach this headspace. Right?”

He sighs wearily and rubs his forehead. “I don’t know. I guess.”

“I am curious as to know what you used, though. I thought we talked about getting rid of all the sharp objects in your house.”

“…I may have hidden a pair of scissors before we did that.”

“Okay,” she says, not missing a beat. “Give them to your mother. Get rid of _everything_ that can tempt you, Castiel. That’s the only way to stop yourself from heading down this path again. And I’m assuming that’s what you want, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s basically the easy part at this point. So I give her the scissors and I won’t cut. Great. But what about the days I wake up wrong and don’t even want to look at Dean? What do I do then?”

“You talk about it whenever you can. Give yourself some space from him when you’re feeling this way, and explain it to him after it passes. Or maybe have some sort of system in place so he knows what to do if you do reach that place.”

“What, like a safeword?” he snorts.

“If you think that’ll work, then yes, I think that’s a great idea,” she says.

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy,” he says bitterly.

“You never know, Cas. You have to try.”

“When I – when I feel like this, I _can’t_ try. It takes everything in me to just open my eyes, or go to school and get through those seven hours. But now, I’m – I’m accountable to someone else. I have someone to answer to now, and I don’t…I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I’m strong enough.” Saying those words out loud breaks something in him. Something _clicks_ , and he sobs, feeling it ripping out of his throat. “I – I think I love him,” he says through another dry sob. “And I can’t hurt him. I _can’t_. But I am. Every time this happens, it hurts him a little more. And how can I possibly stay with him, knowing what I’m doing to him?”

“ _Talk_ to him, Castiel. You know that’s my answer. You have to talk about it and get your feelings out there, and let him get _his_ feelings out there. That’s what a relationship is – it’s a partnership. You’re not in this alone.”

Cas wipes at a few stray tears that fell. “That’s what Dean said. He told me to just talk to him when I’m feeling low, and I was like ‘you make it sound easy’ and he said ‘maybe it can be’. But today…I just couldn’t. I couldn’t make myself talk to him. I just wanted to be alone. I didn’t want to be around him. How do we work through that?”

She hesitates, then a smile inexplicably crosses over her face. “Maybe that’s where a safeword _would_ come in handy. Say you wake up one day and you don’t even think you can look at Dean. So you just text him the word – chocolate. Or something. And then he knows you need space and you work through it alone if you need to. There _are_ ways to get through this, Castiel. It’s hard, and it’s work, but I know you can do it. I _know_ you can.”

“I just don’t want to hurt him. I wish you could meet him, he’s so – he’s…amazing. He’s beautiful, and he’s so smart, and he’s the kindest, most thoughtful person I’ve ever met. He cares about people so deeply, and for some reason…one of those people is me. And I just _can’t_ hurt him. I don’t think I’d survive it.”

“I would love to meet him, Castiel,” she says with a sweet smile. “You can always bring him in for a session. Many clients bring their partners in for one or two.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“Think about it. It might be good for you two.”

“Maybe,” he says noncommittally, not really considering it.

“So what are you going to do after you leave here?” she asks after a moment of silence.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I don’t feel like I’m ready to talk to Dean.”

“Are you going to tell your mother about your relapse?”

He sighs heavily. “I guess. Maybe not tonight, though.”

“Okay. I want you to take your time. But will you do something for me?”

“Maybe?”

“Will you call me if you get the urge to cut again? Whether you tell her or not. I’m concerned about you, Castiel.”

“I’m not gonna kill myself if that’s what you’re worried about,” he says bluntly.

“Well, that’s good to hear. I still don’t want you hurting yourself, though. Will you promise to call me?”

“I mean, I can try. I can’t promise anything, though.”

She sighs quietly and smiles at him. “That’s all I’m asking.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for talk of self-harm and for internalized acephobia

Crying in Dr. Milton’s office must have opened some sort of floodgate, because when Cas is back in his room after their appointment, he walks straight to his bed, buries his face in his pillow, and he _cries_. He cries for Dean and he cries for his mom and he cries for the cuts on his thigh and the scars on his arm. He must start making those loud sniveling noises he always makes when he cries too hard, because all of a sudden, there’s a hand rubbing his back up and down and a soft voice trying to calm him down.

“Castiel, breathe. Try to take a deep breath,” he hears. Amelia squeezes his shoulder reassuringly and continues to murmur soothing encouragements near his ear. “Tell me what’s wrong. Did you have a bad appointment?”

He doesn’t say anything, he just cries, and he keeps crying until he feels the tears run out. She rubs his back through the whole thing, and normally that would make him feel worse, but it’s somehow comforting this time. When he finally stops, he doesn’t lift his head, he just keeps it buried in his pillow, even though it’s now soaking wet with tears and snot.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” she asks again.

He grunts out a ‘no’. He hears her sigh and she pulls her hand back, and they both just sit there for what feels like hours. He appreciates, in the back of his mind, that she refuses to leave him.

He rolls over eventually and looks up at her. She looks so _sad_ , and it just makes him feel that much worse. He _really_ doesn’t want to say this. It’s only going to hurt her, so why is he telling her? He thinks it must be some sort of honesty thing – he feels like he’s lying to her if he doesn’t tell her. And he just can’t lie, it makes him feel unsettled and anxious. Like he’ll never really breathe right if he keeps this secret hidden inside himself. And of course he’s only thinking of himself and how this will affect _him_. Of course.

So he sits up and puts his hand behind him, feeling under his pillow. He pulls out the scissors and hands them to her without a word, refusing to meet her eyes. He doesn’t want to see the pain reflected in them.

He hears her sigh, and it’s so resigned, as if she already knew it was coming. That’s somehow _worse_ than her being sad.

“Castiel…”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry but it was only once earlier today and I don’t want to lie to you so that’s why I’m telling you and I’m sorry I hid the scissors but I had a really bad day and it’s the only thing that makes me feel better and I know that’s messed up but I know I can’t do it anymore so that’s why I’m giving them to you so I know I won’t be tempted because I still really want to do it but I know I can’t and I’m trying I swear I’m trying but it’s so _hard_ ,” he says, all in one go. He drops his head into his hands and finally pauses for a breath.

She doesn’t say anything for a long moment and he can’t bring himself to lift his head.

“Thank you for telling me,” she finally says, her voice careful and controlled. “Where did you do it?” she asks after another minute of silence.

“Right here,” he says, pointing to the top of his thigh. “Where you never look.”

Cas sees her gripping the handle of the scissors tighter. “Is this the only…instrument you have?”

“Yeah.”

She sighs again and says, “You and I both know you can get your hands on something sharp if you really want to. That’s why I can’t stop checking you. So we’ll continue to do what we’ve been doing. I – I want to trust you, Castiel. I hope you understand why that’s difficult for me right now, though.”

“I know,” he says in a low voice. “I don’t trust myself either.” He rubs at his eyes where they still feel raw from crying so hard, suddenly feeling so _tired_.

“I want you to do whatever you have to do to try to recover from this, Cas. Snap a rubber band on your wrist, draw red lines…anything. Anything that stops you from wanting to hurt yourself. Okay?”

“I’ll try,” he says.

She brushes her hair behind her ear and looks at him, sorrow written plainly on her face and in her eyes.

“I know,” he mutters. “I know I’m messed up.”

“No. You’re sick, Castiel,” she says dejectedly. “I’d be taking care of you if you had a cold, so I’m going to do my best to take care of you while you’re dealing with this.”

“Well I’m sorry you have to do that. I’m sorry you have to deal with this too. I would imagine it’s as hard for you as it is me.”

“It’s…not easy,” she gives him, “but it’s my job,” she says simply.

He snorts before he can stop himself. “I bet you wish you could quit.”

She eyes him in disapproval. “No. I don’t.”

***

When Cas sees Dean the next morning standing at his locker, he walks up to him and taps twice on his shoulder. Dean turns around and Cas immediately wraps his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Cas,” Dean whispers into his shoulder, sounding breathless.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” he soothes, rubbing Cas’s back, up and down. “Don’t say that.”

“I still am,” he mutters.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, sounding almost scared, and Cas hates himself for doing that to him.

“I’m better,” he says though, because he is. He’s not fixed, but he’s better than he was yesterday, and that’s all he’s got.

***

They hold hands for the rest of the day. They hold hands while they walk to class, they hold hands while they take notes and work on assignments (and Cas sends up a silent thanks that he’s left handed and Dean right because it means they don’t have to let go for anything), they hold hands during lunch when they cuddle on one of the little couches in the back of the library, they hold hands as they walk home.

And when they reach the point where they usually separate, it goes unsaid that they’re both not quite ready to do that. So they walk to Cas’s house, and Cas leads them up the stairs by their hands and into his room. He shuts the door behind them and lets go of Dean’s hand, sitting down on his bed and leaning his elbows on his thighs, burying his face in his hands. He feels more than sees Dean kneel down in front of him, and after a moment he gently sets his hands on Cas’s knees.

“My therapist thinks we need a safe word,” Cas finally says, his words muffled by his hands.

Dean lets out a sort of choked snort. “Uh, what was that?”

“A safe word,” he repeats, lifting his head and looking at Dean’s face. “For when this happens.”

“Oh,” he says, quickly sobering up. “Right.”

“She said if I wake up on a day like yesterday, I can just text you our word and that way you’ll know that I need to be alone.”

“That’s a good idea.” He’s looking up at Cas with wonder and affection in his eyes, not bitterness or pain or anger like Cas would expect. Like what Cas deserves.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Cas mutters, avoiding Dean’s eyes.

“Like what?”

“Like you…” _Like you love me_. “Like…that.”

“I’m just lookin’ at you, Cas. I do that sometimes.”

Cas sighs and feels his chest swell against his will. “I like you, Dean.”

Dean snorts self-consciously and now he’s the one avoiding eye contact. “Me too,” he says to Cas’s knees.

They sit in silence for a while then, Dean tenderly rubbing up and down Cas’s thighs and Cas casually playing with Dean’s hair, smoothing the short strands out between his fingers, both of them just enjoying the other’s presence and soft touches.

“How about Chevy?” Dean says out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“Our safe word. What about Chevy?”

Cas snorts and says, “Sure.”

Dean grins and says "cool" before he resumes rubbing Cas’s thighs. He leans his head forward and rests it on the edge of Cas’s knee, and Cas sees him take a deep breath in, almost like he’s trying to savor the moment. Cas feels a fond smile cross his face, but it’s short lived, because that’s when Dean’s hand brushes over the cut on the top of Cas’s thigh he doesn’t know is there. His whole body flinches slightly and Dean notices.

“What’s wrong?”

He pauses. He doesn’t know if he should tell him and hurt him even more, or lie to him and keep it secret to spare him the pain.

“Cas, what is it?” Dean asks, his gentle voice near Cas’s ear making him feel even worse.

“I did it again,” Cas says, because he’s weak and he needs Dean’s support and he kind of just wants him to hold him and tell him it’s okay, even though they both know it’s not.

Cas doesn’t dare look up at Dean, though. He’s not strong enough to see the pain that he knows to be brewing behind his eyes.

“Cas,” Dean whispers. “Cas, look at me.” When he doesn’t, Dean puts his hand under Cas’s chin and gently lifts his head so they’re looking in each other’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Cas says, his face twisting in pain.

“Cas,” Dean huffs, shaking his head and looking down at the floor, “how many times do I have to tell you to stop saying you’re sorry?”

“Maybe a few more.”

Dean sighs and drops his forehead onto Cas’s knee. Neither of them says anything for a long moment.

“I hid a pair of scissors a while ago. And I used them yesterday, right here,” he says, pointing to the area of his thighs always covered by his boxers, “where she never sees. But I gave them to her last night. I don’t want to do it again. Not right now, anyway,” he says bitterly. “We both know now how quickly that can change.”

“What do I do, Cas? Tell me what I can do,” he implores, looking deep into Cas’s eyes. Cas feels his eyes well up and he curses himself. Shit.

He drops his head onto Dean’s shoulder, burying his face in the leather of his jacket. “I’m broken, Dean,” he says, voice shaking pathetically.

“Don’t say that,” he whispers.

“It’s true, though. I’ll never be fixed. I’m always gonna be like this. I’m always gonna hurt you, somehow, someway. I can’t even –“ he says, stopping himself before he says it. _I can’t even have sex with you._

“You can’t even what?”

“I can’t even give you a normal relationship.”

He pauses. “I really hope you’re not implying our relationship isn’t ‘normal’ because you’re ace,” Dean says, sounding angry for the first time.

“It isn’t, though. We’re never gonna have sex, Dean, because of _me_. Because I’m not normal. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Cas, _stop_. Don’t even go there, okay? Just…don’t. That’s not even what we’re talking about.”

“We have to talk about it sometime.”

“Well not now, okay?” he snaps.

“Okay, let’s just talk about how I sliced my thigh open, how about that?” Cas snaps right back, feeling himself getting angry for no reason and not being able to do a damn thing to stop it. “Or what about these?” he says, pulling his left sleeve up and practically shoving the scars in Dean’s face. “Do you want to talk about these? You wanted to see them, well here they are!”

“Stop it, stop it,” Dean whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. “Stop, Cas.”

“This is who I am, Dean. I’m a fuck-up, and I always will be. This is what I do to myself. You should get used to it.”

Dean opens his eyes and gently takes Cas’s arm, avoiding looking at his scars while he pulls the sleeve back down. “ _Cas_.”

“You should go,” Cas says, crossing his arms over his chest. He doesn’t know why he’s still talking. He really should stop doing that.

“No,” Dean says.

“No?” he repeats.

“Not like this, Cas. Please.”

And that’s when Cas sees the single tear rolling down Dean’s cheek, and just like that the fight in him is gone. Because _he_ did that. Seeing that tear is ten thousand times more painful than the cut on his thigh.

“You don’t want me,” he says. “This is who I am. Who I really am. You deserve so much more than me, Dean,” he whispers, his voice, his _everything_ , suddenly feeling so tired.

“I want _you_. Christ, Cas, can you not see that? Is that not clear yet?”

“ _Why_?” he begs.

“Because I do. Because I lo – no, you know what? I’m not saying it for the first time now. Not like this,” he says, his voice sounding broken. “But I do, you have to know that. I do.”

And that’s the clincher. A sob rips out of Cas’s throat, and he buries his face in his hands. “I’m so – I’m so sorry,” he chokes out. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so sorry.”

Dean drops his head and rests it on top of Cas’s, and they sit there and breathe together, and Cas pretends the sniffs he hears are all from him, because he has to. He doesn’t know how much more he can take.

“You are not broken, Cas. God, I can’t – you have to see that. I know you’re sick, but you’re not _broken_. You’re not.”

“Chevy,” he whispers in response.

Dean snorts, a wrecked and hurt thing. “Same.”

“What do we do, Dean?”

“I don’t know, man.”

“You can leave if you want to,” he murmurs, giving him one last out.

Dean just sighs, sounding resigned. “I don’t,” he says simply.

“Can we just lay here?” Cas asks, already pulling him by his hand onto the bed. “I just want to lay here with you.”

“That can’t always be your solution, Cas,” he says, even though he's letting himself be pulled. “We’re gonna have to deal with this at some point.”

“Later,” he says, already closing his eyes. Later sounds good.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick, short chapter because i'm not very confident in my angst (or fluff but you know how it goes) writing abilities and i felt weird leaving it on a depressing chapter D: i did think it was something that needed to happen in the story in my mind because depression definitely affects relationships and stuff. ANYway, i hope you enjoy/are enjoying this so far <3
> 
> also TW for quick mention of self harm

Maybe it shouldn’t, but the safe word…works. The first few weeks after Cas’s relapse are tough, and Cas spends at least half of them alone. He would wake up wrong more often than not and he’d immediately text Dean a quick “Chevy”, and then Dean would give him his space. It’s hard, but it works. He owes most of the credit for it working to Dean. He’s just so…understanding and patient and thoughtful throughout the whole thing, and while Cas still may not think he deserves it, he’s going with it.

He doesn’t cut again. Not for lack of want, but…he’ll think about walking into a drugstore to buy a pair of scissors and he’ll see the look of sorrow on his mom’s face when he inevitably has to tell her again. He’ll fantasize about running a blade down his arm and he’ll see the single tear that fell down Dean’s cheek when he found out. He’ll think about giving up completely and he’ll see the look of fear on Claire’s face when she rubbed his back while he was having a crying spell one night. He does it for them. That’s what Dr. Milton said. Do it for them until he can do it for himself too.

He sees Dr. Moseley again and she changes his meds since he was having such a rough go of it. She took him off the Prozac since it wasn’t really working and switched him to Wellbutrin, because it’s supposed to help with his depression and get him out of bed and be more active and motivated. It doesn’t come without side effects, though, and he spends the first few days on it with such bad motion sickness that he skips school because he can’t even move his head without the whole room spinning. But it passes, and his bad days start to dissipate. They don’t go away completely, obviously, but where he’d maybe text Dean a “Chevy” four or so days a week before, it’s now down to one or two. It’s not perfect, but he’ll take any relief where he can get it.

Cas’s increase in mood coincides almost perfectly with Valentine’s Day. He doesn’t really think anything of it until the day before when he realizes… _oh. I’m in a relationship. We should probably do something._

“We don’t have to do something just because we’re in a relationship,” Dean says while they’re facetiming late in the evening of February 13th.

“But it might be kind of fun.”

“What would we even do?”

“I don’t know,” Cas says after stuffing a bite of his hamburger in his mouth.

“Aw, look at you,” Dean says fondly, “takin’ after me. Cute.”

Cas looks down at himself in disapproval. “We spend too much time together,” he huffs.

“I would argue that we don’t spend _enough_ time together,” Dean counters.

“Dork,” Cas mutters, pointing the camera away from his face to hide the traitor blush creeping up his neck. “No, you know what would be fun, like for real? A scavenger hunt. Like a Valentine’s Day themed one.”

“Uhh, and what exactly would that entail?”

“I don’t really know, but they did it on Parks and Rec. Leslie made a scavenger hunt for Ben with like, riddles from all of the dates they’d been on and stuff. It seemed really fun. I’d totally make one for you if I was at all creative.”

“That sounds cool,” Dean says, a look of contemplation on his face. “Maybe I’ll make one for you next year. I don’t think we have time for it this year because we’re lame and waited until the night before to plan something.”

Cas stamps down the flutter in his chest at Dean saying _next year_ and says instead, “Are there any good movies playing?”

“Good to you or good to me?” Dean asks skeptically.

“Good to you,” Cas says begrudgingly, “since I picked the last movie we saw.”

“Okay so we’re _not_ seeing that new Rings movie. Right? Please say right.”

Cas sighs out a long suffering breath. “I suppose that’s right. And what would _you_ like to see, good sir?”

“That new Lego movie? The Batman one?” he asks hopefully, putting his best puppy dog eyes to use.

Cas laughs softly at his face and acquiesces. “Whatever you want, Dean.”

“Awesome,” he grins.

“What about food?” Cas suggests.

“I don’t think we’re gonna find anywhere that’ll have room this late. Shoulda made a reservation sooner.”

“I could – I mean, if you want – I could cook,” he says. “For you. For us.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I’m not saying I’m great or anything, but I can try,” he mutters, avoiding looking right at the screen.

“That sounds awesome, Cas. I’d love that,” he says, his voice appreciative.

“Yeah?” Cas says, looking up at Dean’s face through the phone hopefully.

“Duh. You think I’m gonna pass up an opportunity for my hot boyfriend to cook me dinner?” he says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Dean,” Cas says bashfully. “Shut up.”

Dean snorts and when Cas looks back at his face, he looks so _fond_ it makes Cas sick how gross they are.

“What do you like to eat? And don’t say pie.”

“Umm. I like burgers. Steak. Ribs.”

“I get it, Dean, you’re a man,” Cas deadpans.

“Hey, you asked.”

“I could make burgers? And maybe…a pie,” he says under his breath. But Dean heard him loud and clear if the look on his face is anything to go by.

“I don’t deserve you,” Dean says.

Cas snorts shyly at that. “Apple, cherry?” he asks. “Something new?”

“Surprise me. It is for Valentine’s Day, after all.”

“Oh yeah,” Cas laughs. “I almost forgot.”

“…You’re gonna make the pie in the shape of a heart, aren’t you? That’s exactly the kind of dorky-ass thing I could see you doing.”

“Well now I have to, don’t I? I bet you only said that because you would secretly _love_ a heart-shaped pie. You don’t fool me, Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes and changes the subject. “So what are you gonna get me?”

“I’ve promised you dinner _and_ a pie, is that not enough for you?” he says, only pretending to be put out. He actually does have a present for Dean, and it’s sitting in a little box on top of his dresser right now.

“I’m kidding! You don’t have to get me anything. I’m a simple man, Cas, all I need is some meat and some pie.”

“Good to know I’ve found the key to your heart.”

“Nah, you’ve already got that, sweetheart,” he says, winking at Cas through the screen.

Cas blushes and from the guffaw that comes through the speaker, Dean can tell. “Shut up, Dean.”

Cas rolls over a few minutes later and holds his phone in front of his face and notices Dean’s eyes starting to close. “Go to sleep, Dean. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dean snuffles in his almost-state-of-sleep. “Mm. Night, Cas. Love you.” And then he hangs up.

Oh.


	30. Chapter 30

“Hi,” Dean grins as he walks up to Cas. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, punctuating it with a kiss on Cas’s lips.

Okay so, Dean’s not freaking out or acting like anything’s different or like he made a huge mistake. So he obviously doesn’t realize what he said last night. Okay. That’s fine. Right? Totally fine.

“Hello Dean,” Cas finally says, kissing him again, trying not to let any lingering awkwardness show. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you too.”

“I’m excited for our date tonight,” he says, leaning up against the locker next to Cas’s. “Burgers and pie really _is_ the key to my heart, you know.”

“I knew it,” Cas deadpans, tossing his Chemistry book into his locker and grabbing the one for Physics.

“So what time should I come over?”

“My mom leaves for work around seven and I asked Claire to be gone by then too, so any time after that is fine.”

“You sure you’re okay making all that food?” Dean asks, hesitance replacing the easy grin on his face. “Because you know you don’t _really_ have to. I could swing by a bakery and a drive-thru and accomplish the same thing in five minutes.”

“No, Dean, I want to cook for you,” Cas says with a smile. “It’ll be ‘domestic’ and ‘adorable’.”

Dean snorts. “Says who? Charlie?”

“…Yes. I may have told her about our plans.”

“Heh, all good. So I’ll see you later?”

“Of course.” He leans in for an unhurried kiss and says, “Bye Dean,”, sounding like a lovestruck teenager (which, okay, maybe he kind of is) when they finally pull apart. He has the strangest urge to repeat those two words Dean said last night, and he actually has to try really hard not to. Weird.

***

The doorbell rings a little after seven and as Cas leaves the kitchen to answer it, he hears the door open and Dean’s voice ringing out throughout the house. “Honey, I’m home!”

Cas snorts and walks into the foyer. “Hi, honey,” he says with a kiss to Dean’s lips, the nickname almost sounding awkward rolling off his tongue, _almost_ , but somehow working. “How was your day?”

“Ugh, it was long. Boss keeps giving me shit. I keep telling him I’m only 18, and that’s no age to have all the responsibilities he’s givin’ me, but what are you gonna do?” he says with a sigh and another kiss on Cas’s cheek.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Cas says. He hooks his hands on the back of Dean’s elbows and pulls him in. “You deserve to be running that company.”

“Pshh, don’t I know it. _Any_ way,” he says with a grin, dropping their little act. “How’s dinner comin’ along? Something smells great.”

Cas runs his hands down Dean’s arms and grabs onto his hands, pulling him along into the kitchen. “Burgers are almost done, and pie is in the fridge, ready to be baked when we’re done with dinner.”

Dean leans against the counter and looks Cas up and down, smiling affectionately at him when their eyes meet.

“What?” Cas asks, squinting at him self-consciously.

“Nothing,” he says, ducking his head. “It’s just this whole…domesticity thing. It’s kinda scary how easily I could get used to it.”

Cas looks down at the ground and flushes, feeling a smile spread wide on his face. “Me too.”

“So,” Dean says, clearing his throat and changing the subject. “How do you wanna do this whole present thing? Do you wanna give ‘em to each other now? After dinner?”

“You got me a present?” Cas blurts out, surprised but somehow unsurprised at the same time. He’s been catching on lately that Dean is a hopeless romantic, whether he wants to admit it or not. Of _course_ he got him something, and it’s probably something dreamy and out-of-this-world thoughtful.

“Duh,” Dean says. “Why, did you not get me something? That’s fine, you know, you made dinner and every–“ Cas cuts him off with a kiss.

“Yes, I got you something. We can do it now while we’re waiting for dinner,” he says.

“Awesome.” Dean smiles and sits down at the table and Cas sits down across from him. He pulls the little box out of his pocket where he had it waiting and sets it on the table, and Dean does the same thing, though he keeps his box in his hands.

“Open mine first?” Dean asks. “I’m gonna be honest, little nervous about it. So just open it,” he says, shoving it into Cas’s hands. It’s a small box, and it looks like a box for a ring. Cas’s breath hitches and he opens it, and he comes face to face with…a ring.

“Don’t freak out, I’m not askin’ you to marry me or anything,” Dean says with a self-conscious chuckle, running his hand over the back of his neck.

It takes a minute, but Cas eventually recognizes the ring as the one Dean always wears on his right ring finger, and he tries not to ‘freak out’, as Dean so eloquently put it. “Dean…” he whispers.

“It’s, uh, my grandma’s. Or, was. She died a while ago, but she gave it to me and I always liked wearin’ it. But I thought, I don’t know…I don’t really know what I was thinking, to be honest,” he says, still sounding frazzled. “I just want you to have it,” he finishes, looking at the table and avoiding Cas’s eyes.

“I don’t know what to say,” he says honestly. “I…thank you. I would be honored to wear this, Dean.”

“Yeah?” he asks, looking up at Cas through his eyelashes, his face hopeful.

“Of course, Dean. _Thank you_ ,” he says, hoping Dean can feel the emotion behind the words.

“No problem.”

Cas leans over the table and puts his hand on Dean’s cheek, kissing him thoroughly. _I love you_ , he thinks as he pulls back and looks into Dean’s shining eyes. He sits back down and slides the ring onto his own right ring finger. He has the funniest urge to put it on his left ring finger, but, well…maybe they’ll save that for another time.

“Here, open mine now,” Cas says, pushing the box on the table toward Dean.

“’Kay.” He lifts the lid on the box and smiles down at what he sees. “Aw, Cas, this is sweet,” he says. He pulls it out of the box and looks at it from a few different angles. It’s a necklace with a circle shaped pendant, and it has the letters ‘C+D’ engraved on the back.

“Is the engraving cheesy? You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it,” he says self-consciously.

“Yes, it’s cheesy and _yes_ , I’m gonna wear it. I love it, Cas,” he grins.

“Really?”

“’Course.” He punctuates this by unhooking the clasp and holding it out to Cas. “Put it on for me?” He’s pretty sure Dean can easily put it on himself, or even just put it over his head, but he’s not going to deny himself that moment of closeness, and if the look on Dean’s face is anything to go by, he doesn’t want to either. Cas gets up and takes the necklace in his hand, wrapping it around Dean’s neck and fastening the clasp in the back. He puts his hands on Dean’s shoulders and runs them down his chest, moving down until his face is close enough to press a kiss to Dean’s cheek. _I love you._

“I think dinner’s about done,” he says softly instead near Dean’s ear. Dean stands up and turns around in Cas’s arms, placing his hands on the back of Cas’s elbows. He looks over Cas’s whole face, then leans in to press a kiss to his lips. Cas feels Dean’s mouth open under his and he tentatively opens his back, letting Dean slide his tongue in against his. This is still new and weird to him, but it’s still _Dean_ , and that makes it okay. Dean is soft and gentle with his movements, and Cas never feels forced into anything. Every time they’ve done this, which isn’t a whole lot, he’s never felt pressured or rushed into anything, and it’s a fact he doesn’t take lightly.

_I love you._

The timer for the burgers goes off then, and they reluctantly pull apart. They lean their foreheads against each other for a minute, breathing in the other’s air. Cas looks at Dean’s mouth and sees that his lips are wet and slightly swollen and it’s an oddly satisfying sight, knowing that _he_ did that.

They pull apart completely after a moment and Dean rubs his hands together. “Let’s eat,” he beams.

They put the fixings on their burgers side by side, Dean going for a lot of bacon and a lot of cheese, and Cas going for lettuce and tomato (getting halfhearted complaints from Dean like _you might as well just eat a salad_ as he does so).

“Wait!” Cas exclaims right before Dean starts eating. He runs to the foyer and gets the candles he bought out of the bag still sitting by the door. He brings them into the kitchen and dims the lights, then lights them and places them on the table.

“Nice touch,” Dean says, raising his eyebrows in approval.

“I figured if we’re going full-on cheesy, we might as well go for it.”

Dean snorts. “I like it.”

Cas sits down then and Dean takes his first bite, letting out a happy sound of appreciation. “Cas. You can’t just make me food like this then expect me _not_ to move in.”

Cas laughs and takes his own first bite, remembering to _chew first_ , then talk, unlike his charming boyfriend. “You can come over for dinner whenever you like, Dean.”

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes excited as he takes another bite.

“Of course. You’re always welcome here.”

Dean leans over the table and kisses him in response and gets ketchup on Cas’s lip. Cas gingerly licks it away, and it’s…surprisingly not as gross as it should be.

“You look like you’re having a moment,” Dean says.

“I just licked ketchup from your mouth off of my mouth, Dean. It was definitely an…experience.”

Dean chuckles and reaches over, wiping another stray fleck of ketchup from off of Cas’s cheek with his thumb, then licks it off with his tongue. “Hm,” he says in interest. “Not bad.”

“Gross. The word gross is what you’re looking for,” he deadpans. _I still love you._

“Get used to it, babe, I’m not going anywhere,” Dean winks.

Cas smiles. “Works for me.”

Once they’re finished eating, Cas puts their plates in the sink then walks over to the fridge, pulling out the pie. “Dean,” he says, looking at him over his shoulder. “Come look.”

Dean walks up and wraps his arms around Cas’s middle, leaning his head on his shoulder. “What am I – oh God. _Really_?” he asks in disbelief.

“What? It’s cute!” Instead of cutting a small ‘X’ shape in the middle of the pie, Cas cut it in the shape of a heart. Dean basically suggested it, so he couldn’t _not_ do it.

“Dork,” Dean huffs against Cas’s neck, nuzzling and eventually placing a kiss against his skin. “The dorkiest dork to ever be a dork.”

Cas places his hands over Dean’s, interlocking their fingers and leaning his head back against Dean’s shoulder. He breathes in, enjoying the lingering scent of burgers and pie and Dean’s cologne mixed together. “You love it.”

“I do. I really do. God help me.”

Cas turns around in Dean’s arms then and kisses him soundly. Dean leans up against him, pressing their bodies together, and all of a sudden, there’s hands around his waist and he’s being lifted onto the counter. Cas gasps in surprise, but their lips never pull apart, and Cas opens his mouth without any help from Dean. Their tongues slide against each other, and Cas feels his legs wrapping around Dean’s waist of their own volition. Dean lets out a groan and Cas feels it vibrate against his mouth, and he’s almost surprised at the sharp wave of satisfaction that hits him at hearing it. Dean abruptly pulls back after another minute or so.

“Damn, Cas,” he pants. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Cas snorts and feels himself panting as well. “Nowhere,” he mutters in the limited space between them. “I’m just making it up as I go.”

“Works for me,” he says. He kisses Cas again quickly before pulling back and saying, “Let’s not go to a movie tonight. I just wanna hang out here.”

“Works for me,” he repeats back to him.

Cas finally puts the pie in the oven then and they go out to the living room to wait for it. They both have the same idea in regards to what to do while they wait, and their lips immediately find each other once they hit the couch. Cas pushes Dean down into the cushions and brackets his waist with his thighs, putting one on either side of him. He kisses him like he never has before, like this is a brand new experience they’ve just only discovered they can share.

“I’ve missed you lately,” Cas says against Dean’s lips.

“Me too,” Dean says between kisses. “So much.”

“I’m sorry.”

Dean pulls back, pushing his head back into the couch and looking into Cas’s eyes. “Don’t start that.”

Cas laughs softly. “Sorry.”

Dean kisses him to shut him up, and that works for Cas.

They continue to press their lips against each other, trading soft touches and swipes of tongue. Dean has his hands on Cas’s waist, and when he gently and slowly starts to run his fingers up under Cas’s shirt and onto his skin, Cas goes slightly rigid. Dean immediately pulls his hands back.

“Sorry.”

Cas just shakes his head and puts Dean’s hands back on his hips. “Don’t stop,” he whispers, before putting his lips back on Dean’s. He feels a shiver run through Dean and it sparks one in him as well, his whole body lighting up. Dean runs his hands up Cas’s back, his hands warm on his skin.

“Cas…can I?” Dean whispers, tugging slightly on Cas’s shirt. Cas is about to say yes, _please_ , his skin too hot under his clothes, before he remembers what’s on his arm.

“I…” he says, blinking back at Dean, unsure of where to go from here.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to,” Dean says, shaking his head. He rubs his hands gently on Cas’s back in reassurance.

“No, I, I want to. But I don’t…can you not, you know, _look_?” Cas asks, hoping Dean gets what he’s trying to imply.

“Oh,” Dean says, looking almost like he’s deflating. “I mean, I won’t, but…are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Dean whispers. He gently puts his fingers under the hem of Cas’s shirt and pulls it up, and then all of a sudden Cas is completely exposed. He’s never felt so _raw_ and open, and it could very easily overwhelm him if he’s not careful. Dean’s eyes are only on his, though, and he’s looking at him in wonder. The look in his eyes breaks something in Cas, and those words he’s been repeating all night in his head suddenly float to the forefront, ready to pour out of him.

“Dean,” Cas says tenderly. He kisses him, a soft press of lips against lips. “I love you,” he says into his mouth. “I love you.”

He _feels_ more than sees Dean’s breath hitch, and then there’s hands on his face, cradling him like he’s something special. “I love you, Cas.” He pulls back and looks deeply into Cas’s eyes. “I love you so damn much.”

Cas leans his forehead against Dean’s and starts to push the overshirt off of Dean’s shoulders. Dean catches on and helps him, and Cas pulls it off of him. He goes for the plain black t-shirt still clinging to his skin immediately after and pulls that off too, and just like that there’s nothing between them. Cas looks down at Dean’s chest, marveling at the expanse of skin in front of him. He wasn’t aware that Dean could be _more_ beautiful, but seeing him sitting there, his chest rising and falling heavily, a faint blush running down his body…he’s magnificent.

“You’re so beautiful, Dean.” He kisses him and repeats, “So beautiful.”

Dean groans under Cas’s mouth and runs his hands down Cas’s back. Cas pulls back and they stare at each other for a long moment, both of them panting slightly. Dean leans forward and presses a kiss to Cas’s neck, and Cas tilts his head back to allow him more access. Cas sighs at the feeling of his lips against his skin and he digs his fingers into Dean’s hair. Dean kisses along his neck and down onto his collarbone, then his shoulder, then down his arm.

Cas feels a sense of panic crawling up inside him, Dean getting entirely too close to his scars. “Dean,” he whispers. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, immediately pulling back, Cas notices with appreciation.

“Um…not there, okay?” he says in a low voice. He’s getting the sensation that he’s about to ruin the moment, and he kind of hates himself for it.

“Oh,” Dean says, realizing. “I’m sorry.”

“ _I’m_ sorry,” Cas mutters, heaving a heavy sigh. “I hate this.”

Dean kisses him softly, chastely. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but thank you.”

“Hey,” Dean says, catching his eyes. “I love you.”

Cas feels a goofy grin spread wide on his face of its own accord. He full on _giggles_. “That sounds nice. Say it again.”

“I love you,” he says, punctuating it with a kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, Dean.”

They decide to put their shirts back on then, and they trade gentle touches and innocent kisses for the rest of the hour that the pie spends baking. When it’s done and cooled off, they bring it out into the living room and take turns feeding each other small bites. It’s gross, and it’s cheesy, and it’s _perfect_.

A Valentine’s Day for the books.


	31. Chapter 31

“I like this,” Dean says, looking at the new piercing in Cas’s eyebrow and running his finger gently over top of it.

“Thank you,” Cas says, a small, pleased smile on his face. He’s got his head resting on Dean’s chest and his arm wrapped around his soft middle and they’ve just been laying together for a few hours now.

“I like all of your piercings, you know.” He runs his fingers over the rest of them, ghosting over the ones in his ears, then down to his nose and ending up on his lip.

“Oh do you?” he says, suppressing the shiver that threatens to run through him at the feeling of Dean’s finger on his lips.

“Yeah. You asked me once if I’d like you better without them and I said I’d like you either way, and I would, but I think…I think I prefer you with the piercings. And the makeup. You’re hot, Cas.”

Cas blushes and tries not to stutter when he says, “You’ve never seen me without piercings.”

“Maybe. But still. I like them,” he grins.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“You should show me some old school pictures sometime though. I wanna see prim and proper Castiel.”

Cas huffs out a self-conscious laugh. “No way.”

“Come on! Please?” he asks, batting his eyelashes and using his best puppy dog face.

“I don’t even know where they are,” Cas mutters, trying to deflect.

“Okay,” he says, sitting up abruptly and knocking Cas off of his chest. “Let’s go ask your mom.”

“Deeeeean,” Cas whines as Dean gets off the bed and leaves him alone.

“Come on,” Dean says. He takes Cas by the hand and pulls him upright.

They walk downstairs together, Dean dragging Cas by his hand, and they find Amelia sitting on the couch in the living room, flipping through the channels on the TV.

“Can I help you?” she asks as they step in front of her, raising her eyebrow in question.

“Mrs. – uh, Amelia,” Dean says, stammering slightly. “I was wondering if you knew where Cas’s old school pictures are.”

“I do,” she says slowly, squinting between the two of them. “Why? Would you like to see them, Dean?”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Cas mumbles.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind, I’d love to,” Dean says. Cas looks over at him and he has a dumb, goofy smile on his face that he’s clearly trying to suppress. It’s kind of adorable.

A smile spreads on Amelia’s face and she stands up from the couch. “Wait right here, I’ll get them from my room.”

Cas sighs and turns to Dean. “Are you satisfied?”

“I will be,” he grins.

Cas sits heavily down on the couch and Dean hovers over him, pressing a lingering kiss on his lips. “Don’t be grumpy. I bet you were _adorable_.”

“I’m gonna force your mom to show me _your_ baby pictures next time and we’ll see how you like it.”

“Go for it. I was adorable. Well, _am_ adorable. Still. Same thing.”

“Here they are,” Amelia says then in a singsong voice that makes Cas cringe in embarrassment. She walks down the stairs and back into the living room, stopping next to Dean. “Let’s sit, shall we?”

Cas covers his face with his hand, brooding on the far end of the couch while Amelia and Dean sit next to him and look through the pictures.

“This is the year right before he started piercing his face,” she says, holding up a picture of Cas looking into the camera as if it’s a mugshot. He was quite an excitable teenager. “This is, what, tenth grade, right, Castiel?”

“Yes.”

“Aw, Cas,” Dean says fondly. “You look so… _cute_.”

“Thank you,” Cas deadpans.

“No, really. You look really nice. I would’ve totally been into you if we met back then.”

“Really?” Cas asks shyly, ignoring the fact that his mom is sitting right there. “You would’ve?”

“Absolutely,” Dean says. He shares a private smile with Cas and Cas leans in to peck him on the lips.

Amelia clears her throat. “Yes, Castiel was adorable, I’m glad we’ve established that,” she says sarcastically.

Cas reaches over to hold Dean’s hand and squeezes in a silent thank you while they look through the rest of the pictures.

“Well,” Amelia says a few minutes later, putting the photos into a neat pile, “I’ve got to get ready for work. Dean, I expect you to be gone by the time I get home in the morning.” She looks at them sternly and Cas fights the urge to blush.

“Uh, no problem,” Dean mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cas waits until she’s upstairs to say anything. “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be able to sleep over,” he complains. “We don’t even have a sexual relationship, if that’s what she’s so worried about.”

“I know,” Dean sighs. “What are you gonna do though.”

“I could tell her I’m ace? That way she’ll know we don’t do that stuff and she’ll have no reason not to let you stay over.”

“Uh, maybe…do you think that’ll work though?”

“I might as well try,” Cas says. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Dean shrugs.

Cas walks up the stairs without a problem, but after a minute, an inexplicable nervous feeling starts to creep into his veins. He doesn’t know if this counts as a second coming out or not. The first one, where he had to tell her that he liked Dean, his friend that happened to be a boy, went well, and he can’t really see a reason why this one would go any differently. He can’t be totally sure, though.

“Mom?” Cas says, knocking on her open door.

“Hm?” she replies, pulling a sweater over her head.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“I don’t have much time, Castiel.”

“Um, well. I wanted to say that…Dean and I…we don’t, uh, do…that.” He resists the urge to smack his forehead in frustration. That came out well.

“Pardon?” she says, squinting at him.

He sighs and sits down on her bed, playing with the fraying edge of one of her pillows. “Dean and I don’t have sex,” he says quietly. “So I was wondering if he could sleep over sometimes.”

“Sorry, uh…what was that?” she questions.

“I’m asexual,” he says. “It means I don’t experience sexual attraction. So Dean and I, we don’t…you know. So if he were to ever sleep over, it would only be to do that. To sleep, that is.”

She huffs and inexplicably rolls her eyes and Cas’s heart falls. “Is this something you cooked up with your sister?”

“What? Of course not, why –“

“Because she told me the exact same thing. Which is why I’ve been letting her spend the night with her girlfriend. Because she said they don’t do ‘that’ as well.”

“Wait, wait,” he says, putting his hand up in the air. “Claire said she’s asexual?”

“Yes.”

“Are you serious? Claire is asexual,” he repeats dumbly.

“Yes, that’s what I said, Castiel. I’m starting to doubt the veracity of it now, though.”

“Wait, why would you – you think we would _make up_ our sexual orientation so we can, what, secretly have sex with our partners behind your back?”

She pauses for a long moment, staring at him inquisitively. “Are you telling me the truth?”

“Yes, of course I am. And I sincerely doubt Claire would lie about this either.”

“So are you telling me you’re asexual or asking for permission for your boyfriend to sleep over?”

“Um. Both?”

She sighs and pulls her shoes out of her closet. “We’ll talk about this more with your sister tomorrow.”

“So can Dean sleep over?” he asks, not really sure why he’s still pushing. “We just…we really want to sleep together.” He really does smack his forehead in frustration this time. “ _Sleep_. Together. Just sleep, I promise.”

She stares at him while she puts her shoes on before she finally says, “Don’t make me regret this, Castiel.”

Cas feels a weight lift off of his shoulders. “Really? Oh, thank you,” he says, walking over to her side and squeezing her in a hug. “You won’t regret it, I promise. We can even have breakfast ready for you when you get home tomorrow.”

She just smiles and says, “Behave yourselves.”

“She said yes!” Cas whispers eagerly to Dean once he’s back downstairs.

“Awesome!” Dean whispers back. “Why are we whispering?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want her to change her mind.”

“I’m leaving,” Amelia says as she walks down the stairs. “Claire is at Meg’s for the night so you two are on your own. I expect you to act as you would if I were here, do you understand? I’m putting my faith in you boys.”

“We’ll be good,” Dean promises.

“Thank you, Dean,” she says. “Good night.”

Cas falls down on the couch and lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as soon as the door shuts behind her. “We did it.”

Dean plops down next to him and pats his hand. “She take it well?”

“Yeah. Well, kind of. I’ll tell you later.” He wants to tell Dean that Claire is apparently asexual too. He wants to scream about it, actually, but he doesn’t know if that’s his information to tell. He’s pretty sure he should talk about it with Claire before he tells anyone else, even Dean.

“’Kay,” he says easily. “What do you wanna do for dinner? I’m starving.”

“Do you want to just order a pizza? I don’t really feel like cooking.”

“Sure,” Dean agrees. “I’ll call.”

They order a large cheese pizza because neither of them like toppings and it just serves to solidify Cas’s belief that _yeah_ , maybe they’re kind of meant to be together. They split it and eat four pieces each, stuffing themselves full and nearly passing out on the couch.

“Dean,” Cas mumbles. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Mm, that sounds nice. We should have sleepovers more often.”

“Works for me,” Cas chuckles.

“Oh, I texted my mom, she said it’s cool if I sleep over,” Dean says when they finally head upstairs.

Cas snorts a laugh. “That was easy.”

“Heh, yeah I guess.”

“How is that going, living with her?” Cas asks as they walk into the bathroom. He gets a spare toothbrush out of the medicine cabinet and hands it to Dean. “Do you feel any better about it?”

“I mean, kinda,” he says, squeezing toothpaste out of the tube. “I think the longer we’re there the more, like, secure I feel about it.”

“Well that’s good. I want you to feel safe, Dean.”

“I do,” he reassures him. “Or I’m getting there, at least.”

They start brushing their teeth then and it’s possibly the most domestic thing they’ve ever done together. It feels oddly intimate every time they make eye contact in the mirror, and they keep getting flustered and dropping their eyes.

When they’re done and back in Cas’s room, Cas feels a curious feeling creep into his stomach that feels a lot like fear. Which is ridiculous, because he knows there’s no pressure on him to _do_ anything. They can easily just lay down and go to sleep. But –

“Cas?” Dean says, interrupting his thoughts. “Can I borrow some pajamas?”

“Oh,” Cas murmurs. “Um, yes.” He goes to his dresser and opens the top drawer, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a short sleeved t-shirt he hasn’t worn in months.

“Thanks,” Dean says as he takes them from him. And then all of a sudden, Dean’s pulling his jeans off and he’s standing there in nothing but a pair of black boxers. Cas tries not to, but he ends up just staring at the long, bowed legs poking out from under them. “Uh, Cas? Is it cool if I don’t put the sweatpants on? I get hot when I sleep,” he says sheepishly.

“Oh, um, yes, that’s – that’s fine,” Cas stammers.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You sure?”

“No, I’m fine, Dean,” he promises. And he is. Isn’t he? They’re just legs. _Dean’s_ legs, but still.

And that’s when Dean pulls his shirt off. Now, okay…Cas may not want to have sex with Dean, but he can still appreciate Dean’s body. The freckles that litter his face also spreading down his bare arms, and his soft and comfortable stomach, and the muscles in his back that make Cas’s insides flutter _everywhere_.

“Stop staring at me,” Dean mutters self-consciously, finally pulling the shirt on over his head.

“I’m sorry. You’re just – you’re beautiful, Dean,” Cas says honestly, walking up to him and placing his hands of the back of Dean’s elbows. “You’re so beautiful. How are you real?”

Dean snorts and leans down to kiss Cas’s neck, and Cas tilts his head back to give him better access. “I’m not,” he says against his skin. “I’m a figment of your imagination.”

“I didn’t realize I had such a creative mind.”

Dean hums and brings his lips up to Cas’s. He gently pulls Cas backward with him until Dean’s calves hit the bed.

“Dean,” Cas whines softly against his mouth. “Let me go change first.”

Dean groans and pulls back. “Hurry,” he murmurs, pressing one last kiss to Cas’s lips.

Cas huffs and gets a loose long sleeved shirt from his dresser and he goes to hide in the bathroom. He’s not really sure why he can’t make himself change in front of Dean, but, well. He just can’t. So he pulls his shirt off and puts the bigger one on, then takes his jeans off and stands there in just his boxers. If Dean can do it, he should be able to too, right?

He takes an extra minute to wash his face, getting his eyeliner off quickly and being careful around his new piercing that’s still slightly sore. He looks at his face in the mirror for a long moment, still a little scared and unnerved. He takes a deep breath and dries his face off with the hand towel, and he leaves the bathroom.

When he walks back into his room, Dean is sitting on the edge of the bed and he looks up and smiles when he sees Cas.

“Hi,” he grins. He stands up and puts his arms around Cas’s shoulders, looking over his makeup-less face. “You look cute.”

“Shut up,” Cas mutters, avoiding his eyes.

Dean chuckles and kisses him. “Come on,” he says, running his hand down Cas’s arm and pulling him by his hand into bed. They situate themselves and get comfortable under the covers, laying there for a minute before Dean turns over. Cas can feel his gaze on the side of his face and he flips over to stare at him back.

“Hi,” Cas says.

“Hi.” Dean has a tender smile on his face and Cas is still a little dumbstruck that it’s _him_ he’s looking at like that.

“I love you, you know,” Cas says softly.

Dean huffs self-consciously and drops his eyes down to Cas’s chest. “I love you too. Dork.”

Cas smiles and leans forward to kiss the insecurity off of Dean’s face. The kiss is slow and unhurried, and they continue to trade soft presses of lips against lips until Dean pulls back. He gently presses Cas’s shoulder until he’s laying down on his back, then he places his thighs on either side of Cas’s hips, straddling his waist. He leans down and resumes their kiss, and his mouth opens above Cas’s. Cas opens his mouth as well, and just like that, there’s nothing between them, just the simple glide of their tongues against each other.

Dean puts his hands under the hem of Cas’s shirt and runs his warmth up Cas’s sides.

“Is it okay if I –“ Dean says, gesturing to Cas’s shirt.

“Yeah,” Cas murmurs.

Dean slowly pushes the shirt up and then pulls it over Cas’s head. He looks down at Cas’s chest in what looks like reverence, and Cas tries to fight the flush he can feel working its way up to his face.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Cas says quietly.

“You’re beautiful, Cas,” Dean whispers, leaning down to kiss a line down his chest and onto his stomach.

Cas squirms and feels a wave of discomfort wash over him, but it’s like, the good kind of discomfort. The very _best_ kind. “Shut up,” he giggles, a goofy grin spreading on his face from the compliment and from the way Dean’s mouth is tickling his skin.

“You are,” Dean says. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Shh. Come here,” Cas says, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and pulling him back up toward him. He pulls the t-shirt off of Dean’s chest quickly and efficiently, and then Dean presses his body down on top of Cas’s.

But the feeling of Dean’s bare skin pressed against his, and Dean’s thighs locking him in place, making it almost impossible for him to move, is all at once a little too much. He pushes back from their kiss and Dean chases his lips.

“Wait,” he pants, trying to pull away from him.

“Sorry,” Dean says, immediately pulling back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just got a little…you know,” he mutters, trying to stay calm.

“Too much?”

Cas huffs in embarrassment. “We barely even did anything, I don’t know why –“

“Hey, no, Cas. Don’t say that. If it’s too much, it’s too much.”

“Thanks.”

Cas pauses for a minute, taking a deep breath, before resuming their kiss. It’s slow and there’s a hunger behind it, and it’s such a _nice_ feeling that Cas feels a wave of something he can’t quite name rush through him. Dean moves his kisses down to Cas’s neck and when he bites him out of nowhere and starts sucking a spot into his skin, Cas feels a moan escape from the back of his throat.

“Dean,” Cas whispers.

And that’s when Cas feels it. Feels that piece of Dean pressing against his thigh from between their boxers. His whole body flinches and any sort of arousal that was coursing through him is immediately squelched.

“Oh, shit,” Dean mutters, realizing what Cas is reacting to. He immediately sits up and adjusts his boxers, covering his crotch with his hands. “Cas, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean –“

“Dean,” Cas says, stopping him with a hand on his chest. “It’s okay. You just…surprised me,” he tries. He was a little more than _surprised_ , but he doesn’t want to make Dean feel bad for having a normal reaction to what they were doing.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, ducking his head down to his chest and hunching his shoulders to make himself appear smaller.

“Dean, it’s okay. I’m okay. You didn’t break me,” he says. He sits up and puts his hands on Dean’s shoulders, rubbing gently up and down his bare arms. He draws imaginary constellations with the tips of his fingers in the freckles that litter his skin.

“Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be comforting you?” Dean chuckles.

“No. I’m not a scared little boy.”

“No, I know, I just…” he lets out a big breath. “What do we do here? Do you want to stop? We can just go to sleep.”

“I like kissing you, Dean,” Cas says honestly. “But I just – I don’t think I can do anything more than that,” he admits. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t start that. Don’t apologize. I’m more than fine with just,” he says, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Cas’s lips, “this.”

“Are you sure?” Cas whispers.

“Cas, if my options are being with you and being a virgin for the rest of my life or having sex with someone else…I really hope you know what my choice would be.”

“Why? Why would you choose me over that?”

Dean sighs heavily. “Because I love you, Cas. What else do you want me to say?”

“I just don’t get it.”

“We could sit here and list the reasons we love each other if that would make you feel better,” he deadpans.

Cas snorts. “That’s okay. Maybe later.”

Dean smiles and presses a soft kiss to Cas’s forehead.

“So…the rest of your life, huh?”

Dean huffs self-consciously. “ _That’s_ what you got out of that?”

“It was a pretty important part.”

“Yes, the rest of my life. Happy?”

“Yes,” Cas says, pressing a lingering kiss to Dean’s lips. “I am.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentioned self harm

Cas comes to to the feeling of something gently rubbing his skin, up and down and up and down. It takes him a minute to fully wake up and realize _where_ exactly he’s being touched. When he realizes it’s his arm, his _left_ arm, he immediately wakes up all the way and goes rigid. He opens his eyes, and what he sees in front of him is Dean, laying on his side, his face downcast and covered in shadows, and his fingers softly ghosting over the scars on Cas’s arm.

“Dean,” Cas whispers, trying to pull his arm away and hide it in his shirt, before he realizes he’s not wearing one. They must have fallen asleep before putting them back on.

“Sorry,” Dean says quietly, looking up into Cas’s eyes apologetically, though he makes no move to pull his hand back.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs.

“Dean,” Cas says again, still relatively calm. For some reason, he’s not freaking out like he probably should be. He doesn’t really have the urge to run away and hide like he probably should. Waking up next to Dean in just their boxers, their legs tangled together under the covers, feels intimate in a way they’ve never really shared before, and after everything they’ve been through together, Cas kind of just feels like…what’s the point? He can’t hide his arm _forever_. Right?

“Do you remember what I said last night, Cas?” Dean asks in a low voice, still lightly trailing his fingers up and down Cas’s arm.

Cas thinks for a minute before saying, “What?”

“The rest of my life,” he says, looking deep into Cas’s eyes. “I meant that. So I don’t…you don’t have to hide them from me anymore.”

“Oh,” Cas says, his heart starting to beat faster. The _rest of his life_. That’s significant.

“I love you, Cas. I love all of you. You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

He gently wraps his hand around Cas’s wrist and brings it up to his lips. He presses a soft kiss on the very tip of Cas’s arm, right under his hand, where his deepest cut once was, then continues in a line down, pressing tender kisses on every available inch of skin. Cas watches him, conflicting feelings warring inside him. One part of him wants to push Dean away, to get as far away from him as he possibly can, and another part of him wants him to never stop, wants him to just keep pressing comforting kisses to the mess on his arm forever.

“Dean…” Cas whispers, trailing off. After a minute, he says, louder, “Dean, stop.” And to Dean’s credit, he does. He immediately pulls away the second Cas asks him to, which Cas appreciates in the back of his mind. He pulls his arm back and cradles it to his chest, hiding the scars from view. “You can’t just – you can’t just kiss my scars and expect everything to be okay.”

“I wasn’t trying to do that,” he murmurs.

Cas sighs, the small fight easily leaving his system. “I know, I just – I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want this to be a _thing_ between us, Cas. Like, something you have to hide and keep secret. I want you to be comfortable showing me every part of you.”

“You’re starting to sound like a love song,” Cas deflects, avoiding Dean’s eyes and running his finger around the freckles on Dean’s bicep.

“I’m serious, Cas,” he says, not giving him the out.

“I know you are. But I just – I don’t want this to be a part of me. I don’t _want_ you to have to know about it, or see it every day. It’s kind of a bummer.”

“Well you can’t change it, Cas. It is what it is. So we just have to deal with it,” he says, putting his hand gently on Cas’s shoulder and rubbing in a circular motion.

“Are you my therapist now?” Cas jokes, sounding more bitter than he intended to.

“Cas,” Dean huffs exasperatedly, pulling his hand back. “Stop. I’m trying here.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I just… _don’t_ want to do this. Not now, not ever.”

“I know. Believe me, you think I want to? But we _have to_ at some point.”

“Have to what, though?” Cas begs. “What are we even doing right now? How many times do we have to have this conversation?”

Dean sighs and says, “I’m trying to clear the air here, okay? Get everything out in the open.”

“It would probably be a lot more fun if you added something to the mix,” Cas mutters.

“Well what do you wanna know?” Dean says.

“Tell me one of _your_ secrets.”

Dean snorts. “Okay,” he says easily. “Uhh, let’s see. Do you wanna hear about the time I wore Cassie’s underwear? Or what about the time I put Nair in Sammy’s shampoo?”

“Dean…seriously.”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” he murmurs. “But I don’t really have any secrets like that.”

“Great. So you’ve never done something that you’re not proud of? Something you don’t want me to know?”

He pauses, looking like he’s debating what to say. “I mean, there is one thing,” he says after a minute. “It’s not like a big deal or anything, but when we used to live with my dad, I…I drank a little.”

“What do you mean by ‘a little’?”

“I don’t know, like if I had a shitty day or something, I’d just…get hammered. It was always around and he wasn’t so it was kind of like, why not?” he says bitterly.

“Oh,” Cas says, unsure of what to feel.

“My mom doesn’t drink though. She says she got enough of it around my dad, so she just doesn’t do it at all. I haven’t had any since we moved in with her.”

“That’s good, I guess,” Cas says, reaching out and interlocking their fingers in comfort.

“Yeah. I mean if alcoholism runs in the family, it’s probably best to quit while I’m ahead, right?”

“Of course,” Cas agrees. “I’m sorry you felt low enough that you felt you needed to do that, though. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t really think it was a big deal,” he admits.

“Well unfortunately I know a lot about unhealthy coping mechanisms. You can talk to me about anything, though, Dean. This goes both ways here.”

“I know,” he says, squeezing Cas’s hand.

***

“Did you sleep over?”

Cas looks up from his bacon and eggs into the disapproving eyes of his sister, who’s standing in the doorway of the kitchen looking between Dean and Cas with judgment on her face.

“Claire,” Cas says.

“That is seriously not cool, Cas. You can’t just –“

“Claire, we’ll talk about this after Dean leaves. Okay?”

She rolls her eyes and walks away without another word.

“She looks mad,” Dean says.

“I’ll explain it to her, it’ll be fine,” Cas assures him.

“I should probably get going then,” Dean says, wiping his mouth with a napkin and standing up. “I have a ton of homework and stuff. Go talk to her.”

“Okay,” Cas says. He walks him to the door and Dean puts his shoes on, then turns and wraps his arms around Cas’s shoulders.

“This was fun,” he says, pecking a kiss on Cas’s lips. “I like wakin’ up with you.”

“Yeah,” Cas grins.

“We should do it again sometime.”

“Are you propositioning me, Winchester?”

“Hell yeah,” Dean leers.

Cas snorts and kisses him again. “Goodbye, Dean.”

“Call you later. Love you,” he says, kissing Cas on the cheek and turning around, opening the door.

“Love you too,” Cas repeats, trying to control the smile that wants to spread on his face. That sounds nice.

***

“Claire?” Cas says, punctuating it with a knock on her door.

“What?” she says, opening her door and looking at him with thinly veiled disdain.

“Claire, I know what you’re thinking. But believe me when I say that you don’t have the whole story.”

“Does Mom know your boyfriend slept over?” she asks sarcastically. “He sure seemed in quite a hurry to leave before she got home.”

“Claire, I’m asexual,” Cas blurts. That could have come out a little more gracefully, but, well, it’s out there now.

She does a double take, then scoffs. “Are you seriously messing with me on this? That’s not even funny.”

“I’m one hundred percent serious.”

She stares at him for a long moment, different emotions fighting to take over her face. First contempt, then disbelief, then shock. “What?” she finally says.

“I know,” he says. “I couldn’t believe it either. Mom told me last night after I told her I was. She asked if it was something we ‘cooked up’ together, and I was like…really? But I think she believed me in the end. I can’t –“

“Cas, _what the fuck_?” she cuts him off. “You’re seriously ace?”

“Language, Claire. But yes, I am,” he says calmly.

“How could you not tell me?”

“You never told me either?” he argues.

“Yeah, but I…what the fuck,” she whispers, clearly in shock. “Uh, come in,” she says, opening her door wider and finally letting him in. She sits down on the edge of her bed and Cas sits down next to her.

“So,” he says, placing his hand lightly on her knee. “This is a thing. We’re both asexual.”

She huffs a laugh. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“How long have you known?” he asks her.

“I figured it out when I met Meg,” she says. “I really liked her, but not like _that_ , you know? Like, I wanted to – wait. Are you, um, aromatic too?”

Cas looks at her fondly, noticing how unfamiliar the words sound on her tongue, and he’s reminded again that underneath all of her snark and eyeliner, she’s still only a fourteen year old girl.

“I think it’s aromantic,” Cas corrects gently.

“Oh, right,” she says, a blush rising on her cheeks.

“But no, I don’t think so. That one kind of confused me, but I don’t think I am. I love Dean in a different way than I love you, or Charlie, you know?”

“Yeah, well I – I think I am, because I think I _do_ like Meg in the same way I like you. I want to be like, her best friend. But in a relationship way. We don’t kiss or anything though. I’m not, like, completely opposed to it, but I mostly don’t want to. It’s…” she trails off and sighs. “I know I’m not making sense. This is the most confused I’ve ever been in my life, Cas. Can I just say thank _God_ you’re into this stuff too? I’ve felt totally alone.”

“You’re not alone, Claire,” Cas says automatically. “Not at all. There are millions of people like us out there. They’re just a little harder to find sometimes.”

“I’ve been doing research like every day trying to figure out what I am.”

“Well you don’t necessarily have to define it,” Cas tries.

“I know, but it’s a lot easier to talk about with your girlfriend when you actually know what you’re talking about. There’s this thing called queerplatonic? I think that’s what it is. It’s like when you’re more than just friends but you’re not dating. It’s confusing but I think that’s what we are.”

“I think I’ve heard that term before.”

“So if you’re ace…does that mean Dean is too?”

“Well, no, he’s not,” he says reluctantly. “But he’s incredibly supportive. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he said…he said that if he had to choose between being a virgin for the rest of his life or having sex with someone else, he’d choose, well, you know.”

Claire snorts. “Seriously? Wow, Cas, you must have found a good one. Good for you.”

“Yes,” he smiles fondly. “I did.”

“Okay, don’t get gross about it.”

“Is Meg supportive?” he asks.

“Yeah, totally. She’s been really patient while I’ve figured this stuff out. And I mean, I’m only fourteen. Maybe the sex stuff will be a problem when we get older, but it’s okay for now. I’m trying not to think about it too much.”

“Claire, Meg loves you. I have a hard time believing that will change. I think she’s the type to mate for life.”

“Maybe.”

“I have to say, Claire, I’m very proud of you,” Cas says, a warm and affectionate smile on his face.

“For what?”

“You haven’t mentioned the word ‘broken’ once. And I know how easy it is to go down that path, I spent a lot of time there myself. Sometimes I still do. But you seem so self-assured, even if you are a little confused or overwhelmed by all of this. It’s quite a sight to see. I’m just…I’m proud of you.”

“Whatever, doof.”

“No, I’m serious, Claire. This is a big deal.”

“Well can it not be? I just wanna be normal.”

“Why would you want to be normal?” he chuckles.

She snorts a laugh. “Touché.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for internalized acephobia and an ace person in a sexual situation (nothing happens)

Cas is in the middle of making out with Dean on top of his bed when a thought pops into his head, unbidden.

He’s really lucky.

Holy _shit_ is he lucky.

Dean is – fuck, he’s amazing, isn’t he? He’s supportive of everything, of _all_ of Cas’s shit. And he asks for nothing in return. Dean gives him everything, and what does Cas offer him? He doesn’t ask for sex. He kisses Cas’s scars as if they’re beautiful and not the ugly mess Cas knows them to be. He’s more than patient and persevering when Cas texts him the word “chevy” day after day – when he’s essentially just saying “leave me alone”.

He deals with so much shit from Cas, and Cas doesn’t deserve him. He doesn’t even come _close_ to deserving him.

“Cas,” Dean whispers against Cas’s lips. “What are you thinking about?”

“What makes you think I’m thinking,” Cas says, his voice rough from disuse and emotion.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he mutters. He leans forward and kisses Dean roughly, opening his mouth and colliding his tongue with Dean’s. This, he can do. No matter how much his insides may be screaming about it. He can give Dean this. He _has_ to. Dean deserves it.

Dean kisses back, even though Cas can feel him going stiff. Cas just keeps kissing him and kissing him until he relaxes. He gently pushes Dean down until he’s lying on his back, and Cas presses his body up against him. He moves down to his neck and starts sucking a spot into his skin, and Dean lets out a breathless moan.

“Cas,” he pants. “What are – you – doing.”

“Shh,” Cas soothes. “It’s okay.” And it is, isn’t it? He can do this. He can make Dean feel good. It’ll be easy. He reaches down and plays with the hem of Dean’s shirt, before pulling it off in one fell swoop. He immediately kisses a line down his chest and onto to his soft stomach. Dean puts a hand in his hair and gently smooths his fingers through the strands, not pushing or pulling, almost just _petting_ , which Cas appreciates.

“I love you, Dean,” he whispers. “Thank you. For everything. I love you.”

Cas feels something bump against his chest then from where it’s positioned over Dean’s crotch, and he tries to swallow down the fear and bile rising in his throat at the sensation. It’s okay. This is a _good_ thing, it means Dean’s happy. That’s the only thing that matters.

He opens the button on Dean’s jeans, only fumbling slightly, and that’s when Dean stops him.

“Whoa, whoa, Cas, what are you doing?”

“It’s okay, Dean,” he whispers. “I can do this.” He pulls Dean’s pants off with little resistance and comes face to face with the growing bulge in Dean’s boxers. He lets out a deep breath and reminds himself that this is for Dean. With that last thought, he puts his hand over it and presses down. Dean bucks his hips, but doesn’t stop him.

“Cas, are you sure? We don’t –”

“I want to make you happy, Dean. Let me,” he says, before leaning down and kissing the slight frown off of Dean’s face. He moves his hand experimentally and Dean lets out a soft moan, and the sound makes Cas feel good. It makes him feel that this is worth it, because Dean is happy.

“Cas?” Dean says in alarm, immediately sitting up and pulling away from Cas’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asks.

“Cas, you’re crying,” he says in shock, reaching forward to gently put his thumb under Cas’s eye to catch a tear.

“Shit,” Cas says, pushing Dean’s hand away and wiping his eyes himself. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Cas, what’s wrong?” he demands, trying to keep his voice soft when he’s obviously concerned.

“Nothing,” Cas says, putting his hand back on Dean’s boxers.

“Cas, stop,” Dean says, pulling away again. He picks Cas’s hand up in his and rubs it soothingly. Comforting _him_ again. Of fucking course. “We’re not doing this.”

“Yes we are,” Cas mutters, leaning forward and kissing Dean quiet.

“Cas,” Dean says, louder, pushing Cas off of him. “ _Stop_. We’re not.”

Cas pulls back against his will and finally feels the tears falling more freely. “Shit,” he whispers roughly. “I’m so sorry, Dean.” He raises his knees and drops his shaking head in between them.

“Don’t apologize, Cas, what the fuck?”

“Dean, you – you _always_ have to do this. You always have to comfort me. God, even when I’m trying to do something for you. I’m just – I can’t do anything right,” he mutters brokenly. “I just wanted to make you happy, and I can’t. I’m so – I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Dean leans his forehead on Cas’s knee and says in a small voice, “Cas…did I do something? Did I make you think you had to do this?”

“What?” Cas asks in fear. That’s the last thing he wants Dean thinking, that he _forced_ him into anything. God, not even close. “No, no, Dean. I want to do this. I want to make you happy.”

“It doesn’t make me happy,” he says. “Not when it makes you fucking cry, Cas.”

“You’ve done so much for me, Dean. _So_ much. And I feel like I’ve given you nothing in return.”

“Well I don’t want sex, okay?”

“Yes you do.”

“Cas, hey,” he says, lifting Cas’s chin and forcing him to look him in the eye. “No. I don’t.”

“Since when?” he says bitterly.

“Since trying to do it made you _cry_ , doofus.”

Cas snorts. “Thanks.”

“In case it wasn’t already clear, you don’t _owe_ _me_ for anything. Especially not _sex_ , Jesus Christ. Why would you think this was a good idea?”

“It’s what normal people do.”

“You _are_ normal. Don’t start that shit again. Please.”

Cas doesn’t say anything, and Dean leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Cas. And for some reason you love me too. _That’s_ what you’ve given me. To think I need more than that is doing a disservice to our relationship.”

Cas feels his eyes well up again. Damn it. “I just can’t shake this feeling, Dean. Maybe I’m just having a chevy day. But I just – I don’t deserve you,” he whispers.

“What can I do?” he begs, tangling his fingers with Cas’s tightly.

“Nothing. Please. You’ve done more than enough for me, Dean,” Cas scoffs.

“Cas…no. That’s not how it works. There’s no ‘comfort quota’ or some shit like that. I don’t care if I have to make you feel better every day for the rest of our lives. I _will_ , because I love you.”

“But I can’t offer you anything in return, Dean, that’s my point!”

“Cas, you _do_! You already are! Just because you have more bad days than me doesn’t mean you don’t _deserve_ me. God, how do I make you see this?”

“I don’t know,” Cas says quietly, finally.

Dean gets up and Cas’s heart falls. He doesn’t look up as Dean puts his pants and his shirt back on. He expects to hear retreating footsteps and the click of the door, but instead he just feels Dean sit back down in front of him, the bed creaking slightly under him.

“You can leave, Dean. You don’t have to stay.”

“I’m staying, Cas,” he sighs. “Duh.”

“What do we do, Dean?” Cas asks in a small, pitiful voice, wrapping his arms around his knees. “How many times do we have to do this?”

“How many times do I have to convince you that I love you?” Dean counters.

Cas huffs self-consciously. “I don’t know.”

“Is there anything I can do? Like seriously, Cas, tell me what you want me to do.”

“I don’t _know_ , Dean,” he repeats. “I can’t just flip a switch and believe I’ll always be enough for you.”

“What, you think I’m just gonna change my mind?” Dean asks, sounding hurt at the very idea, and it physically pains Cas to hear it.

“Maybe not on purpose, but you could easily decide one day that I’m not worth it. That you want sex more than you want me, or my depression is too much to deal with. Anything can happen.”

“Cas…that’s a really shitty way to view the world.”

“Yeah well I can’t help it,” he mutters. He hears a sniff and his heart breaks before he even looks up. And yep, Dean’s crying. Great. _Great_. “See?” he implores. “I’m making you _cry_ now.”

Dean wipes his eyes and clears his throat gruffly. “No you’re not. I’m not crying. I’m a man, Cas.”

“Dean, this isn’t funny,” he says, wiping his own tears that are beginning to fall again. “We’re so fucked.”

“You got to have faith in me, man,” Dean whispers. “That’s all we have.”

“I do have faith in you,” Cas says. “It’s me I don’t have faith in.”

“You basically _just_ said you don’t have faith in me. That you think I’m just gonna change my mind about us one day. That hurts me, Cas,” he says seriously, and _oh_. Cas is hurting him. It hits Cas like a train, out of nowhere and with full force – he’s hurting Dean. His depression and lack of faith in everything isn’t just affecting him anymore. It’s affecting Dean, the man he loves more than anything in the world. And that can’t happen.

“Shit,” he murmurs. He wipes his eyes and looks up, deep into Dean’s. “I’m sorry, Dean. I’m so – fuck, I’m so sorry. I wish I could turn this off. I don’t _want_ to think this way. Especially if it’s affecting _you_ now. I – I’m gonna try harder. I will. For you.”

“No, Cas…no. Don’t do it for me. I want you to get better for yourself. That may sound cheesy, or dumb, but I’m serious. Do it for you.”

“Can I do it for both of us?” Cas tries.

Dean huffs a laugh. “Fine,” he says.

Cas reaches forward and takes Dean’s hands in each of his and interlocks their fingers in the space between their bodies. “I love you so much, Dean. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He sighs and says, “I don’t want you to think now that you _have_ to get better or try harder because you think it’s hurting me, or that you can’t tell me when you’re feeling bad or something. That’s not what I’m trying to say. I don’t – I don’t really know _what_ I’m trying to say.”

“I think we’re so concerned with hurting each other that we’re not thinking clearly. Can we just, like… _be_? Just…have faith. Right?” Cas says hopefully.

“I will if you will,” Dean counters.

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why but i feel like i need to apologize for this chapter. like i said before, i'm not trying to write angst for the sake of having angst, i'm just trying to go off how i feel a person that is asexual and has a mental illness (not that they're the same or have anything to do with each other) would go about and feel in a new relationship. i hope this comes off as sensitive and like i'm intending it to :/ let me know if you have any problems with this and i will definitely listen to it accordingly. as always thank you for reading and i hope you're enjoying the story so far. <3


	34. Chapter 34

“I miss you guys,” Charlie pouts. She crosses her hands under her chin and puckers her lips into a frown. “We never hang out anymore. You two are always…doing whatever it is you two do together. So we never see each other anymore. And it sucks.”

“So let’s do something,” Cas shrugs.

“Yeah?” she says hopefully. “You want to?”

“Of course,” Cas frowns. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Because you just said ‘we’,” she points out. “You two are a package deal now, so I can’t make plans with just you or just Dean. I have to make plans with Destiel.”

“Sorry, uh, what was that?” Dean cuts in as he sits down, catching just the end of her sentence.

“What’s a…Destiel?” Cas asks right after, squinting at her in confusion.

She pops a square of watermelon from her fruit cup into her mouth and says, “Destiel. Dean and Castiel.”

“Oh,” Cas says after staring at her for a minute, finally realizing what she’s saying. “But Dean isn’t pronounced like…Den. So shouldn’t it be Deastiel?”

“You’re asking the real questions, Cas,” Dean says sarcastically.

“Whatever. Forget that. Are we hanging or what?” she says impatiently.

“Of course. What do you want to do?”

“Bela’s having a party on Friday. Yay or nay?”

Cas fights the urge to groan. The _last_ thing he wants to do is go to a party, with sweaty and drunk underage teenagers writhing on each other and throwing up on every available surface in sight. That _is_ what a party consists of…isn’t it?

Dean looks over at Cas, a question sitting on his face. “Cas? You want to?”

“Not particularly.”

“Tell me how you really feel, Cas,” Charlie deadpans.

Dean snorts. “It’s cool. We can do something else.”

“No, come on guys. It’ll be fun! It’s just _one_ party,” Charlie begs. “We can leave early if you really want to.”

Cas sighs and rubs his hands down his face. “Okay. Only if you two are going too.”

“Yay!” she squeals. “Now, okay, repeat this and I’ll deny it and no one will ever find your bodies _but_ …Bela invited Gilda for me.”

“Who’s Gilda?” Cas asks.

“Did I not _just_ say don’t repeat this?” she whispers fervently, looking around to make sure no one is listening.

“I’m sorry?”

“G-i-l-d-a is only my dream woman,” she murmurs quietly. “She’s practically an angel sent down to live among us mere mortals.”

“No, that’s Castiel,” Dean says factually, putting a hand on the small of Cas’s back.

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas says, knocking into his shoulder petulantly. “Shut up.”

“You know what?” Charlie says, looking between them and squinting. “I’m rescinding my offer to go to the party together. I don’t know if I can stomach even a car ride with the two of you.”

“Works for me,” Cas chuckles.

***

Cas is looking through his closet, debating what to wear, as if it matters and as if his wardrobe doesn’t consist of the same black t-shirt ten times over, when his phone rings. It’s Dean calling on Facetime.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says as he answers. He sets the phone down up against the wall behind his desk and walks back over to his closet.

“’Sup?” Dean’s tinny voice says through the speaker.

“I’m just about to get changed. What should I wear? Are you supposed to dress up for a party?”

He hears Dean snort from across the room. “Just wear what you normally wear. You wanna be comfortable because there’s gonna be a lot of people there.”

“So remind me again why we’re going?” Cas counters.

“It’ll be fun. Kind of. Maybe.”

“I don’t want to drink, Dean,” Cas says reluctantly. “Will you be?”

“Eh, I don’t have to. Probably shouldn’t anyway. Still think I should stay away from the stuff, for obvious reasons.”

“So what do you do at a party where you’re surrounded by drunk people and you’re sober?” Cas asks. He pulls his shirt off over his head and tosses it to the floor.

“Oh yeah, Cas, give me a show,” Dean leers. Cas blushes and rolls his eyes, picking the shirt back up and throwing it toward his phone, covering up the camera.

“How’s that?” he says.

He hears Dean sigh dejectedly. “You wound me, Cas.”

Cas pulls his black button-down on and buttons it up, then he walks over to the phone, picking the discarded shirt up and freeing the camera.

“Aw, that’s not cool,” Dean says, noticing that Cas is now covered up.

“You never answered my question,” Cas says, ignoring him. “What are we even going to do at this party?”

“I don’t know,” Dean shrugs. Cas sits down at his desk and picks the phone up, watching Dean take his own shirt off and change into a dark green henley. “Maybe Bela has a Playstation.”

Cas snorts a laugh. “Maybe.”

Cas hears Dean’s phone vibrate from across the line. “Charlie just texted me,” he says. “She wants to know if we’ll pick up her and Lisa. So I’m guessing that means they want to get drunk and we’re the DDs.”

Cas sighs. “Great. I can drive if you don’t want to, though. My mom’s off tonight so I can use the car.”

“I might take you up on that. I don’t need anyone barfing in Baby.”

***

Cas manages to convince his mom it’s a _good_ idea if he borrows the car and drives his presumably-to-be-drunk-in-the-future friends around for the night.

“This way I know they’ll be safe,” he tries. “I’ll be able to get them home safely at the end of the night.”

“And you _promise_ me you won’t be drinking?”

“You think I’d be taking the car if I was?” he snorts. She raises her eyebrow and he just says, “Yes. I promise. I don’t think Dean will be either, so…”

So she gives him the keys and he leaves around nine and picks up Dean first, then Charlie, then Lisa.

“I haven’t been to a party since last year,” Lisa says from the backseat. “I’ve been working too much lately, what with the SATs and midterms and college apps and everything. I’m ready to just chill tonight.”

“Same,” Charlie says, exhaling heavily. “Thanks again for driving us, Cas. You’re the best.” She punctuates this with a kiss on his cheek and Dean regards her with distaste. “Oh, please,” she snorts. “You do realize I’m gayer than you two put together, right?”

They give Cas directions to Bela’s house then and they’re on their way. They eventually pull up to a bonafide _mansion_ about twenty minutes later. The three-car garage and driveway is already overflowing with cars, so Cas has to park down the street a little ways. There’s people already littered around the perfectly manicured lawn, most of them with red cups in their hands. Cas can hear loud music pulsing through the air before they even get out of the car.

“Eee!” Charlie or Lisa squeals, he can’t be sure which one. They both get out of the car, leaving Dean and Cas alone in the front seats.

Dean looks over at Cas with trepidation written on his face. “You good, Cas?”

“Yeah. I think,” he breathes.

“If you want to leave early, we always can. Bela’s their friend so I’m sure they could sleep here tonight if they really have to.”

“I think I’ll be fine. No one will really be paying any attention to us, right?”

“Yeah, probably not,” Dean chuckles. He reaches over and squeezes Cas’s hand, then they get out of the car together. Cas takes a deep breath and looks around the front yard, at the people hanging around out here.

“Hey, Winchester! Novak!” a guy, Cas is pretty sure is named Garth, calls out to them, raising his hand in the air in a salute.

“Hey, Fitzgerald!” Dean sounds out with a wave. Cas tentatively waves as well, and Garth lets out a drunk sounding giggle. “Let’s get inside,” he says near Cas’s ear, putting a hand on the small of his back to lead him in.

If Cas thought it was a scene outside, he wasn’t prepared for what awaited him inside. The entire first floor, and it’s a _big_ floor, is covered with squirming teenagers, red cups in hand and bodies moving to the bassline blasting out through speakers somewhere in the house. The stairs that lead to the second floor have couples littered on them, each in various positions, lips locked together.

“Let’s find the kitchen,” Dean says loudly near his ear. Cas nods and grabs onto his hand, and Dean leads him into the house and out of the doorway. They walk around the multitude of people and work their way through the halls, eventually finding a kitchen near the back of the house. It’s mostly empty, save for a few people looking through the fridge and getting drinks. It’s dark except for the moonlight shining in through the large windows, so Cas puts his hand out and searches until he finds a lightswitch, turning it on and bathing the room in light.

“Oh, thank you,” Dean says. It’s quieter in here, Cas notices with relief. The noise was making him feel trapped and anxious.

“I don’t know how much of this I can deal with, Dean,” Cas says hesitantly. “This is much louder and bigger than I was expecting.”

“Don’t worry, Cas, just say the word and we’ll leave, alright?”

Cas smiles at him with just his eyes, thankful for him in that moment. “Thank you, Dean.”

The few people in the room file out after a minute and then they have the kitchen to themselves.

“I’m hungry. Do you think Bela would be opposed to us finding something to eat in here?” Cas asks.

Dean shrugs and chuckles. “I doubt it.” He opens the freezer and immediately pulls out a frozen pizza. “Hey, pizza,” he groans. “I’m suddenly starving.”

“Let’s do it,” Cas laughs. They turn the oven on and pop it in right away without waiting for it to preheat, and stand around talking while they wait the fifteen minutes it takes to cook.

After a few minutes, the door to the kitchen opens and Bela Talbot walks in. “Oh, hello there, boys. Are you having – are you eating my frozen pizza?” she asks in disbelief, arching her perfect brow.

“Sorry, we were hungry,” Dean shrugs.

“You know, I’d really appreciate it if you _didn’t_ burn my house down.”

“We know how to use an oven, Bela, relax,” he says, rolling his eyes.

She rolls her eyes back and focuses on Cas. “Castiel, darling, so glad you made it. There are plenty of boys here if you’re looking. _College_ boys. You know, if you decide you can’t take Winchester’s…everything anymore. Sound good?”

“Fuck you, Bela,” Dean says, with no real heat in it.

“Just saying,” she winks. “Seriously, though, you _better_ turn the oven off when you’re done. And you owe me five dollars for the pizza.”

Dean scoffs and she leaves the kitchen after grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter.

They take the pizza out a few minutes later (and Cas double checks to make sure the oven’s really off) and they sit at the large table in the room and eat, talking and laughing about nothing in particular and just enjoying each other’s company. They finish the pizza quickly, because it’s just a small one, and then Cas isn’t sure what they’re going to do next.

“So what now?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Dean replies. “You wanna go back out there? See if anything catches our eye? Maybe she has a pool table or something. Or a game room? She’s gotta have something like that in this _mansion_. Let’s go look.”

They walk back out into the main area and find a free spot on a couch and sit down. “I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” Dean says into Cas’s ear a few minutes later. “You just want a soda?”

“Sure,” Cas agrees.

Dean nods and gets up, maneuvering his way around the throngs of people and back into the kitchen. Cas is so focused on staying calm and collected that he doesn’t notice someone’s sat down next to him until they speak into his ear.

“Hello there,” a voice with a distinct English accent purrs. Castiel nearly jumps and he turns his head and comes face to face with an older looking blond guy that’s edging into his personal space. “I’m Balthazar, and you are?”

“Um. Cas,” he gets out.

“Cas, huh? What’s that short for?”

“Castiel.”

“My my, that sounds like an angelic name if I’ve ever heard one. So is mine, you know. I think we must be meant to be.”

Cas tries not to snort in his face, because he’s pretty sure that would be considered rude, but…seriously? “Did you really expect that to work?” he says.

“Okay, sorry, not my best line,” Balthazar chuckles good-naturedly. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Um, my boyfriend already is.”

“Mm. Pity. You wouldn’t be making that up, now would you?” he asks, putting his finger under Cas’s chin and turning his head toward him.

“Please don’t touch me,” Cas says nervously, his heart starting to race.

“Come on, don’t pretend you don’t feel it too. There’s something between us, Cassie.”

“My name is Castiel.”

And that’s when he leans in. Balthazar closes his eyes and Cas looks down at his puckered mouth, and he does the first thing that comes to his mind. He takes the red cup out of Balthazar’s hand and pours the contents over his head.

“Ugh, what the _fuck_?” he yells.

“Cas?” Dean’s distinct and worried voice comes through the noise around them. “Cas, are you okay?”

Cas stands up and feels his chest heaving. “Dean, can we go somewhere more quiet, please?”

“Yeah. One second.” He pushes the two cups in his hands into Cas’s and turns toward Balthazar. He wraps his hands around his collar and rips him up to his feet. “Hey. I’m Dean,” he says with a sickly sweet smile. “Touch my boyfriend again and you’ll have a lot more to deal with than a wet shirt. Got it?”

Balthazar rolls his eyes and twists out of Dean’s grip. “Whatever.”

“Let’s go, Dean,” Cas says.

Dean puts his hand on Cas’s back and they walk up the stairs, past the couples making out on different steps, and through the hallway, opening a plethora of doors until they find one that leads to an empty room. Cas shuts the door behind them and sets their cups down on the dresser at the front of the room.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks again, sitting down on the edge of the bed and reaching his hand out. Cas takes it and rubs his knuckles for comfort.

“Yeah.”

“Cas, when I saw him touch you…” Dean trails off.

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas says.

“No, it’s not,” Dean argues, standing up and facing Cas, wrapping his arms around his neck. “You’re _mine_.”

“How possessive of you,” Cas snorts.

“It’s not funny. I want to go back and punch him in his stupid British face.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Dean. My love. My beloved. I’m yours and only yours forever and ever and you’re the only boy that will ever have my heart. Happy?”

“That’s more like it,” he smirks, leaning down and kissing Cas soundly.

“I’m not making out with you in Bela’s guest room, Dean,” he says against Dean’s lips.

“Aw, come on, not even a little bit?”

“Nope.”

Dean scoffs and pulls away. “Fine. Let’s go find an Xbox or something.”

***

“Cassss! Cas-ti-elllll,” Lisa giggles. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

“You have a funny name. Cas-ti-el. Did you know that?”

“Did I know that my name is Castiel? Yes, I did.”

For some reason that’s about the funniest thing Lisa’s ever heard. She bursts into laughter and clutches her stomach, eventually wiping tears from her eyes.

“Ahh, you’re funny. I see why Dean likes you.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

“I still like him,” she pouts, and Cas’s stomach drops. “I mean I _love_ you guys and I’m so _happy_ for you but…I still do. He’s so _cute_ y’know?”

“Lisa, perhaps it’s time we go home,” Cas says reluctantly. He knows she would never be saying this if she was sober, and he doesn’t want her to say anything else that might embarrass her later.

She sighs heavily. “Where’s Dean?”

“He’s, uh, looking for Charlie. Should we get going?” he asks, avoiding her drunk, piercing gaze.

“I need to get over him, I know. I _know_ ,” she says again, as if someone was doubting her.

Cas likes Lisa, and she’s one of his best friends, but he’s not going to sit there and pretend he wants to listen to her talk about her crush on his boyfriend. “Lisa,” he says, his voice hard. “It’s time to go.”

“Oh, shit,” she says, her eyes widening comically. “I wasn’t supposed to say that to you, was I?”

“No,” Cas says simply. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m so – so sorry, Cas,” she hiccups. “Please don’t hate me.”

He sighs and puts his hand in her hair, rubbing gently. “Let’s go.”

“Hey, babe,” Dean says as he walks over to them. “Charlie apparently left with Gilda,” he snorts. “So you two ready?” Cas doesn’t even have time to fret over the pet name he doesn’t think Dean has ever used before, because that’s when Lisa stands up and wraps her hands around Dean’s neck.

“Deaaaan,” she squeals. “Hi.”

Dean chuckles and puts his hand on her back to steady her and Cas feels a wave of jealousy and nausea float over him. “Okay, easy there, tiger,” he says.

“Should we go?” Cas interrupts.

“Yeah, let’s head out,” Dean says.


	35. Chapter 35

The beat from the loud rap song blaring from inside the house is pulsing on Cas’s last nerve. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat of his mom’s car, waiting for Dean and Lisa to get in the back seat, and it’s for some reason taking longer than it should. He turns around when the door finally opens and Lisa crawls in, and she pulls Dean in next to her. Cas huffs quietly and tries to pretend he doesn’t care.

“I had – so much fun,” she hiccups. “Didn’t you guys have fun?”

“Not as much fun as you, apparently,” Dean says, as Cas starts the car. He pulls out of his spot and narrowly avoids hitting a drunk group of people stumbling along the road.

Lisa giggles and snorts unattractively. “Oh, Dean,” she sighs. “You’re so awesome. Remember when – when we wore those Star Wars costumes? At that thing? That was _awesome_.”

Cas grits his teeth. She’s just drunk, he reminds himself. She doesn’t mean anything by it. He looks at them through the rearview mirror and sees Lisa just staring at Dean. He keeps alternating his eyes from between the road and the backseat, and the next time he looks up, he gets a front row view to Lisa planting one on Dean. Cas’s stomach drops to the bottom of the car, nausea piling up in his gut.

“Whoaaa – kay there,” Dean says, pulling away from her sharply, distaste written plainly on his face.

“Oh my _God_. What did I just _do_?” Lisa gasps. “Holy shit, Dean. I’m so – so sorry. And _Cas_! I’m sorry Cas!” she says in Cas’s ear, reaching forward and wrapping her hand around Cas’s shoulder.

Cas doesn’t say anything, just keeps his eyes on the road and his teeth grounded together.

“Cas, please don’t hate me. Dean, please – oh my God. I’m so sorry. I just – “ she cuts herself off. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was – thinking.”

“It’s okay,” Dean says. “You’re drunk. Just…lay down or something.” Lisa takes his advice literally and promptly drops her head in his lap. The sight almost makes Cas as sick as the sight of her lips pressed against his.

Cas continues driving, and they reach Lisa’s house a few minutes later. He stays in his seat while Dean attempts to get her out and standing, and he eventually has enough trouble that he has to ask Cas for help. Cas sighs and gets out, trying to handle Lisa’s drunk movements and get her upright and to her door. Once they do, they try to open it, but it’s locked. Dean looks at Lisa apologetically and rings the doorbell, and they have to wait a minute before an older woman in a hastily tied robe eventually answers.

“Lisa,” she groans, looking at her in disapproval. “Are you two, Dean and, uh, Cas-teel? Lisa’s told me about you.”

“Castiel,” Cas corrects. “Yes. Hello, Mrs. Braeden. We’re sorry about this.”

“It’s okay,” she sighs. “Thank you for getting her home safe.”

“No problem,” Dean says, before extricating her arms from around their shoulders and handing her off to her mom.

Lisa seemingly wakes up then, raising her head with a gasp. “Cas! Do you hate me, Cas?”

“Of course not,” he mutters, avoiding her mom’s questioning eye. “I’ll see you at school on Monday.”

“I love you guys,” she slurs.

“Goodnight, Lisa,” Dean says. “Mrs. Braeden.”

She smiles tiredly and closes the door behind them. Cas and Dean walk to the car and get in their respective seats, and they just sit in silence for a moment before Dean finally breaks it.

“Uh, sorry about tha –“ Cas cuts him off. He leans over and kisses him _hard_ , his lips bruising, the ache to _claim_ almost overpowering him. He climbs over the seat and into Dean’s lap, straddling his waist and hooking his lips back on his.

“That,” Cas says between kisses. “Can’t. Happen. Again.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean gasps.

“You’re _mine_ ,” Cas kisses into his mouth. “Mine.”

Dean breaks away and pants into Cas’s open mouth. “Damn, Cas. I like possessive you. He’s hot.”

Cas ignores him, leaning down and nipping his bottom lip in between his own. He shoves his tongue into Dean’s mouth and licks his way around, biting and sucking and _marking_.

“Cas,” Dean breathes. “ _Easy_. You’re gettin’ me a little worked up here,” he jokes, rubbing his hands gently down Cas’s hips.

“She _kissed_ you, Dean,” Cas growls. Like, actually growls. He moves his lips down to Dean’s neck and bites, sucking a dark bruise into his skin.

Dean lets out a breathless moan, before he stops himself and says, “It’s okay, Cas. Relax.”

Cas can’t really describe the feeling that’s pulsing through his veins at the moment. He feels animalistic, like he wants to take Dean as his own and claim him for the entire world to see. He feels like he wants to be closer to Dean, in any and every way possible. He’s craving intimacy with him so intensely he feels arousal starting to course through him. And when he feels that bulge in Dean’s pants, he doesn’t flinch or feel any sort of nausea, he just feels…good. Powerful. Because _he_ did that. And that’s…yeah, a little scary.

“Whoa,” Cas huffs, sounding jumbled and confused. “Maybe we _should_ …uh, relax. Before I do something I might regret.”

“You good to drive?” Dean smirks up at him. “I know I can be _intoxicating_ and all.”

“Shut up, Dean,” Cas says, leaning down and pressing one last lingering kiss to his lips. He pulls back and rests his forehead against Dean’s, breathing heavily. “In case it wasn’t clear,” he exhales. “I’d appreciate it if you refrained from kissing anyone else. Ever again.”

“Now I kinda want to just to pull this out of you again.”

“Dean,” Cas groans, lightly hitting his shoulder. “That’s not funny.”

“Okay, sorry,” he chuckles. “Consider my lips yours and only yours, forevermore. Happy?”

“I’ll take it.”

***

Cas isn’t _mad_ at Lisa. He has no reason to be. She was just drunk, and she’d never have done anything if she were sober. So he can’t be mad at her.

He still kind of is, though.

And he’s avoiding her.

He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to reign in any lingering feelings of possessiveness he’s still holding onto, and he doesn’t want to upset her. She kissed his boyfriend, and he’s worried his reaction might upset _her_. He’s not sure what that says about him.

She evades his gaze all throughout the day whenever they see each other, and when she walks up to their table at lunch, her eyes are downcast and she has a blush on her face as she sits down. Cas looks at her with an owlish sort of air in his eyes. She sets her tray down, and then she seems to burst.

“I’m so sorry!” she exclaims. “I’m so sorry I kissed him. I wasn’t thinking, I was drunk, I – please don’t hate me, Cas. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not worried about the kiss so much as I’m worried about what you said,” Cas says honestly. “That you still like him.”

“I don’t, I – not really, anyway. It’s just a crush that won’t go away. I’m not, like, in love with him or anything. I swear. I’m so sorry, Cas.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’m not mad at you.” And he’s not. Right? He still loves Lisa, she just made a mistake. And she seems genuinely sorry.

“Really?” she asks, her face hopeful. “Oh, Cas, I love you. Thank you. I’m just, ugh, I’m so sorry. Again.”

“Just don’t let it happen again,” he says, mock sternly, but he winks at her to let her know he’s not completely serious. He’s still kinda serious, though.

She smiles. “I’ll keep my lips to myself, you have my word. Well, until I meet someone else, and then my lips will be theirs. Sound good?”

“Works for me,” he chuckles.

***

Cas is so busy trying and failing to catch up on his reading for English next period (even though he knows in the back of his mind it’s impossible to read quickly and gain any sort of knowledge from what you read) to notice that the seat next to him is empty. Just as the final bell rings throughout the room, someone rushes in and mutters a breathy “sorry”.

“Take your seat, Winchester,” Mrs. Mills says. Cas looks up at the mention of Dean and what he sees makes his stomach drop. Dean’s hair is a mess, he has two-day old stubble across his cheeks, and his eyes are red and puffy.

“ _Dean_? What’s wrong?” Cas asks quietly but fervently as he falls into his seat.

“Chevy,” Dean murmurs as he gets his notebook out of his bag.

Cas’s heartrate elevates, because Dean has _never_ used their safe word before. He wants to ask him what’s wrong, to stop everything and get answers out of him before he has the chance to get out of it, but that’s not what their word means, is it? Chevy means _give me space. I need time. I’ll talk when I’m ready._

So Cas just looks at him for a long moment, before whispering, “Okay.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for implied homophobia and child abuse

Dean doesn’t show up at their table for lunch. Cas gets it, but he still worries.

“Is Dean okay?” Charlie asks him nervously, chewing on the crust of her pizza. “I saw him earlier and he didn’t look good. I was too scared to ask though.”

“I don’t know,” Cas says honestly. He picks at his food for a few minutes, not really hungry, until his phone buzzes with a text. A sense of relief permeates through him when he takes in what it says.

_meet me in the library?_

He couldn’t have said how long Dean would have needed space. Cas knows that when he uses their word, it can take days until he’s ready to talk. So the fact that Dean is already reaching out to him, Cas takes as a good sign.

He packs up his tray and dumps it into the trash, and makes his way to the library. He walks in, the heavy door slamming behind him, and he looks around the room until he spots Dean at a table near the back. He walks up to him, his gait careful and controlled, and when he reaches him, he gently kisses the top of his head, the usually spiky strands looser and softer with no product in them today, before he sits down beside him.

“Hi,” Cas murmurs. He wants to take Dean’s hand in his, but he’s not sure if Dean would want him to, so he refrains.

Dean turns in his seat to face Cas full on, and up close, Cas can see the depth of his troubles written in his face. His hair is falling onto his forehead, his stubble is dark and scratchy, and his _eyes_. The usually brilliant green that Cas loves so much is hidden behind a murky cloud of dull grey, and the red and purple of his dark circles only serves to highlight that.

“Hey,” Dean says. “I – I’m fine. I’m sorry if I like, worried you or something.”

“Dean,” Cas admonishes. “You’re clearly not fine. Did you get any sleep?”

“Not really,” he breathes.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Cas asks, rubbing his thigh gently after making sure the touch was wanted. “And don’t say ‘nothing’.”

“It’s my dad,” Dean whispers, so softly Cas almost doesn’t hear him. At hearing the word, though, Cas realizes he’s not surprised.

“What did he do,” Cas says, trying not to grit his teeth.

“He’s…he knows about us.”

“What? How?” Cas questions in shock.

“He said he saw us at the Roadhouse the other night. I don’t even know how we didn’t see him, but…he saw us. And he came to our apartment to, uh, tell me how he felt about it,” he chuckles bitterly.

“Dean…what happened?” he gets out.

“I was home alone when he got there. He was drunk and he started saying some _really_ shitty stuff about us that I’m not gonna repeat, and then he,” Dean pauses, cutting himself off.

Cas rubs the back of Dean’s hand in comfort, trying to tell him without words that he’s safe here, that he doesn’t have to worry around Cas.

Instead of saying anything, Dean just lifts his shirt gingerly. Cas looks down in confused surprise, not sure what he’s doing, until he sees it. Sees the dark purple bruise blossoming down the entire column of Dean’s ribs. He feels a wave of nausea hit him, his mouth filling with saliva, and he’s sure he’s going to be sick.

“ _Dean_.”

He pulls his shirt back down and says, “Probably looks worse than it is.”

“What the fuck, Dean? What did he do to you?”

“What does it look like? He just beat the shit out of me.”

“Where is he now?” Cas says, gritting his teeth and trying to control the anger filling him up inside.

“What, you gonna go teach him a lesson?” Dean smirks, though it quickly falls flat.

“Dean. You need to go to the police. Right now. I’ll come with you.”

“Cas, easy,” Dean says, wrapping his hand around Cas’s forearm gently. “It’s already taken care of. Mom kinda came home in the middle of it, and, long story short…he’s rotting in a cell as we speak.”

“What’s to stop him from coming back and doing the same thing when he gets out?” Cas asks, trying not to sound frantic, trying to remain calm for Dean’s sake.

“We got a restraining order _and_ we even got an alarm for the apartment just in case,” he says calmly. “He’s not gonna get back in. It’s okay, Cas. I’ll be okay.”

Cas takes a deep breath, lost in thought. Okay so, Dean is sitting in front of him, obviously safe, aside from the huge, dark bruises littered around his chest. He may not be _okay_ , but he’s safe.

“I’m trying to stay calm for you, Dean, but I hope you know how hard it is for me to do nothing right now,” Cas says, as collected as he can. Dean rubs his hands, comforting _him_ in this moment, and the sight is so ridiculous he has to pull his hands back.

“There’s nothing for you _to_ do, Cas. It’s taken care of. We’re safe,” he assures him. “Besides, I’m gonna be leaving for college in a few months and hell if he’ll know where I go. And it’s me he hates, not Sammy. So he should be fine.”

“What about…me?” Cas asks in a small voice. He hates the selfish tinge of his question, but he can’t help but wonder. “Doesn’t he hate me too?”

“He doesn’t even know your name, Cas. Don’t worry about it, okay?” he promises. “Trust me, if I thought there was any chance of him doing anything to you, I’d take care of it.”

Cas sighs heavily. “I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “Well, it’s not, but at least it’s over. And now I don’t have to worry about mom shipping us back to him anymore. I’m _pretty_ sure that fear is over,” he chuckles.

Cas is hit then with an almost overwhelming sense of _pride_. Dean. Look at him. He’s so strong, able to keep a smile on his face amidst one of the worst things a person can experience – losing the love of a parent. Being hurt by the one person who’s supposed to protect you in the world. Cas loves him so much he can’t think straight for a second. Cas could never be as strong as him. He still cries like a baby sometimes for his father and everything he’s lost, and Chuck never laid a finger on him.

“Do you have any idea how amazing you are, Dean?” Cas murmurs, looking at him in awe.

Dean blushes and ducks his head. “I’m not.”

“You are. You’re so tenacious and strong and…you’re just. You’re amazing. I love you so much.”

“I think I might still be in shock and that’s why I’m handling all this so well. Check with me again in a couple days,” he says with bitter mirth.

“Well, I hope that doesn’t happen, but if it does…I’m here. Just say the word, and I’ll do anything for you, Dean.”

“I love you, Cas,” he whispers.

They sit in silence for a while, just soaking in each other’s presence, Cas doing his best to keep his eyes off of Dean’s torso, until Dean asks him for a favor a few minutes later.

“Cas, will you do something for me?”

“Of course,” Cas says, jumping at the chance to do something for _him_ for a change.

“Will you read to me? Maybe the book we’re supposed to start for English?” he asks, his voice small.

“Oh. Sure, I can do that.”

He pulls Cat’s Cradle out of his backpack, and Dean turns his body around, leaning up against Cas’s chest and resting his feet on the chair in front of him, looking fully relaxed, like he deserves to. Cas does notice, however, with a pain in his chest, that Dean moves a little too cautiously, obviously incredibly sore.

“Call me Jonah…”

Cas reads for the remainder of their lunch period, and when the bell rings, Dean gently sits back up, turning in his seat to face Cas, a small but shining smile on his beautiful face.

“Cas, can I say something gross?”

“Go for it,” Cas snorts.

“The sound of your voice is kind of the only thing keeping me going right now.”

***

To the surprise of no one, exams creep up on Castiel like a ghost in the night. Almost literally, because he realizes that they’re only two weeks away one night while he’s laying in bed, unable to sleep. His eyes shoot open and he has an _oh shit_ moment. He hasn’t even begun to prepare for them, and these kinda matter, because they determine whether or not he _graduates_. So it would probably be for the best if he didn’t flunk all of them.

Dean shares his sentiments.

“When did it get to be mid-April, man? I feel like it was just Valentine’s Day yesterday!” he laments one day while they’re in the library cramming.

“Shh!” Mrs. Macleod reprimands.

“Sorry,” he mutters to her. “What are we gonna do?” he says, quieter. “Do you think we’ll be ready?”

“We still have about two weeks to study. I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Cas tries to reassure both of them.

Dean sighs. “Hey, have you, uh…you know. Heard from anywhere yet?” he asks cautiously.

“Not yet. You?” This is something they’ve still yet to discuss. Cas is pretty sure it’s assumed they’re going to go to the same place for college, but they still haven’t actually _said_ it yet.

“No. Should we, uh, talk about that? Like, I still don’t even know where you applied.”

“I honestly don’t really remember, my mom just made me apply to a bunch of different ones. I guess we can figure it out when we hear back?”

“I guess. But we’re on the same page here, right? Like, do you wanna go to the same place?” he asks, actually looking unsure.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas says simply. “We’re going to the same place.”

Dean snorts and smiles down at his book. “Just making sure.”

***

Dean, Cas, Charlie, and Lisa spend the next two weeks spending every free moment they have at school in the library stuffing themselves full of notes and textbook passages. Exams come and go, and before Cas knows it, they’re just…over. Along with his high school career. And _damn_ if that isn’t scary.

He feels like he’s going to drown in all the responsibilities that are about to come his way, and at the same time like he’s never been more ready. He doesn’t really know how that’s possible.

Dean and Cas get their respective college acceptance letters back, and in the end they decide to go the University of Kansas, because they both agree that while they feel ready to start this next chapter of their lives, they’re still not quite ready to leave the area and their families.

***

“How long has it been, Castiel?” Dr. Milton asks one day at one of their Friday appointments. He knows what she’s asking without her having to clarify.

“Three months and five days,” Cas smiles.

A wide smile of her own spreads on her face as well. “That’s fantastic, Castiel. How do you feel about that?”

“I guess I feel…proud? A little? I mean, this has been the hardest thing I think I’ve ever had to do. But I did it.”

“You did. You _should_ feel proud.” She pauses for a moment before saying, “There’s something I want to ask you, though.”

“Okay.”

“What are you going to do when you get to school? You’re going to be living on campus, so your mother won’t be there to check you and keep you honest and clean. How are you planning on dealing with that?”

He sighs heavily. “I mean, I think it’ll be hard. But the only thing I can do is keep trying, every day. I know that sounds, like, cliché or whatever, but that’s all I can do. Try.”

“Mm,” she agrees.

“I’ll be sharing a room with Dean on campus, we’ve decided. And I don’t know how he’ll feel about it, but I want him to trust me enough to like, keep a pair of scissors in our room. I know that may be reckless, and too tempting, but I just…I want to move past this. I don’t want this to be my _thing_ anymore. I don’t want this to define me and be the thing people always see when they look at me.”

“What _is_ your thing? What do you want to define you?”

“I don’t know. But I think that’s okay. Isn’t that what college is for? Figuring out who you are?”

“It can be,” she smiles. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and says, “Let’s talk about reducing your appointments in the future, then. How do you feel about that?”

“I feel ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, we're almost done, folks. thank you so much for being on this journey with me <3


	37. Epilogue

Dean and Cas graduate on a sunny, clear morning at the end of May. The sky is cloudless and blue, and the crowd cheers for each graduate as if they’re front row at a Led Zeppelin concert. Cas hears Claire, Meg, and Sam scream especially loud for him and Dean, and he smiles as he makes the long journey across the stage.

They all crowd into a booth at The Roadhouse an hour later, joined by Charlie and Lisa and their families, buzzing with energy and excitement. It’s a _little_ much for Castiel, who still struggles with anxiety no matter how much improvement he makes, so he just laces his fingers with Dean’s under the table and stays focused on remaining grounded.

That night, Dean sleeps over and they cuddle in bed under the covers, both of them exhausted but holding off on falling asleep in favor of trading soft and gentle kisses that commemorate the day.

“Cas,” Dean murmurs.

“Hmm,” he says against Dean’s mouth.

“We’re gonna _live_ together. We’ll get to do this every night. Do you realize how awesome that sounds?”

“I do realize that, actually,” Cas chuckles. He kisses Dean again and pulls back to rest his head on his chest.

“I love you, Cas,” Dean says, tracing his finger around the ring on Cas’s right hand.

“I love you too.”

And when they graduate from college four years later, Dean with a degree in teaching and Cas in psychiatry, they celebrate the night with a different kind of ring.

They make a promise to each other that night, one that’s been unwritten since the day they met. They promise to hold on to each other no matter what comes their way, to always remember to laugh and not take life too seriously, and to always love each other even harder than they did the day before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELP. that's it.
> 
> i have to say thank you (thank you thank you thank you) to every person who left kudos, who left a comment on every chapter, who only left one comment, who never commented but still read every update. this was my first fic and i know it's not the best out there but i sure had fun writing it and i hope you had fun reading it. thank you thank you i love every single person who supported me in some way, i really do.
> 
> thank you for sticking with me <3 if you can just please leave me a comment letting me know what you thought. bye!


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